


When Ashes Fall

by Danjo



Series: When Ashes Fall [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 52,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danjo/pseuds/Danjo
Summary: You are a combat medic working for Overwatch, when a mission goes south and you cross paths with Talon mercenary Reaper. But will he kill you on the spot or is there more to this encounter?
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Series: When Ashes Fall [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943017
Comments: 68
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don’t even know when I started writing this fic, maybe it was 2018 or something...anyway! I rediscovered it a few weeks ago and wrote some more and before I lose track of it again, I thought I best post it here. It will be done in four chapters, of which I have already written three. So let’s keep our fingers crossed that we will see the day this gets finished.
> 
> With that said: the warnings are clear on this one. Yes, there is going to be rape/non-con, and it’s going to get explicit. I strongly advise anyone who is not into that kind of story to turn back around, because this is going to get pretty heavy and will finally be the non-con story with Reaper that I had always wanted to write.
> 
> I specifically set up a tumblr for my writer’s profile, so hit me up if you like. It’s danjo-ao3
> 
> Comments give me life, and I appreciate every single one <3

Smoke. Dark and all encompassing, it irritated your lungs and sent you into a coughing fit while your drooping eyes were searching for...something.

What had happened? You tried to move your body but you couldn’t even feel it. 

The last thing you remembered was an explosion, when you and your small Overwatch team had been scouting the area for the missing civilians, but just as you had turned to Caleb behind you to let him know that his latest joke had been even worse than the ones before, were the two of you knocked back from an explosion too close in order to get to cover in time and both of you had flown into the warehouse’s walls.

Blinking through the black smoke, you again tried to lift your right arm to wipe at your watering eyes, but when it still wouldn’t move, you let your head roll to the side to see that a long piece of jagged metal was protruding from your shoulder. 

Oh. 

Oh shit. 

The panic at the realization of being impaled by something momentarily cleared your head enough for you to move your left arm and shakily touch the blood covered object. Why you did that you didn’t quite know yourself, maybe out of morbid curiosity or in hope of it being an illusion or a nightmare. Maybe to pull it out. But the slippery metal’s cold surface at your fingertips sent a jolt down your arm, making you inhale sharply, sending more of the smoke into your lungs, which resulted in even more coughing.

Gradually, you could feel a dull throbbing pain emitting from your right side, spreading to your arm and lungs. Apparently, what adrenaline had been coursing through your bloodstream was finally wearing off and you would be left to feel all of the abuse your body had suffered. 

_ Shit _ , if you weren’t able to remove the metal from your shoulder you were surely going to bleed to death, the nanites inside your blood would not be able to heal you around that thing. And that was when you noticed that your amplifying glove had been torn to pieces, only a few shreds were still clinging to your hand. Quickly, your left-hand fingers clumsily searched your right ear for the comm device, but that must have fallen off when you had hit the wall. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck! _

Somebody would have been nearby, though? As you drew in more smoke instead of air into your lungs in preparation to call for help, you instantly regretted your decision as your wild coughing rattled your body against the metal inside your shoulder and you gritted your teeth against the pain. 

Well, this wasn’t going to work either, you realized, and laid back against the debris behind you that was strewn everywhere about, pinned in place like a bug by a needle in a showcase. In the distance you could see the flickering of flames, even through the thick smoke around. Your breaths came shorter now, the pain in your shoulder was threatening to make you black out again, and you were certain you were going to die should you fall unconscious. If you didn’t bleed out, the smoke would surely suffocate you, and you weren’t keen on dying just yet. You still had to tell Caleb to shut the hell up.

Caleb. Where was he? Frantically, you looked around, but the smoke was making it almost impossible to see anything further away than a two meter radius. You hadn’t heard him either, fear gripped your heart as you imagined his lifeless body lying somewhere nearby, maybe equally impaled on a piece of the warehouse. 

Closing your eyes in trepidation, you wondered what had even happened, had someone planted a bomb on your team? After the recall, Overwatch’s reputation hadn’t been the best. Most people could still remember its downfall and weren’t all too happy to see the organization being active again. You couldn’t blame them. Between the destruction of the Swiss headquarters and the revelation of Overwatch’s black ops division’s machinations, you had been reluctant to be recruited into the newly formed international team of operatives. You had been invited by one Dr. Angela Ziegler to join her in her work for the team after you had been her student for two years at her Swiss medical center. So you had accepted in hopes of keeping up your training under her. 

And now here you were, broken and battered after a routine retrieval mission, with the intention to heal and not even able to help yourself. Groaning in frustration, you again gripped the metal with your left hand and tried to pull, but the thing didn’t even budge a millimeter and your strength was waning the longer you lay there. It was most definitely embedded inside something even bigger and heavier behind you, so you would have to get up in order to get rid of it and there was no way you would be able to do that in your current condition. With a shaky breath, you let your arm drop back to the dusty floor as you felt your heartbeat slowing down with the blood loss.

So that was it. Not even your fear was able to keep you conscious for much longer and your eyes closed on their own accord. 

Behind your lids the darkness was sporadically interrupted by flickering firelight in the distance, creating dancing spots and the illusion of a human figure closing in. 

Then between the blood rushing in your ears and the tinnitus from the explosion, you heard them: faint footsteps growing ever louder. They sounded heavy and foreboding, if such a thing was even possible. With the last of your strength, you cracked your eyes open to find that figure approaching you through the smoke, but aside from it being huge and oddly shaped, you couldn’t make out anything else. The thick smoke was still impairing your vision. 

Soon the footsteps stopped and you struggled to raise your eyes at a skeletal white mask surrounded by a black hood and even more black smoke. 

_ How odd _ . You must have gotten delirious with blood loss already, you mused. Because what stood in front of you resembled nothing you’d ever seen before. Or maybe you had died already, and the angel of death was here to accompany you to the realm beyond. 

A weak smile flitted across your lips at your own weird thoughts. 

Your eyes had drifted closed again, but reopened when you felt something cold and hard press against your forehead. The muzzle of a shotgun touched your skin, and if you were surprised then only at the choice of weapon. Death had come for you and there was no running away at this point. 

You held your breath in anticipation, certain you’d soil your pants any second now and not even letting you leave this life in dignity. 

The pressure of the gun increased, pushing your head back a fraction until you almost lay flat against the ruined crates and pieces of metal behind you, even shifting the piece inside your shoulder. A gasp escaped you at the pain and your eyes shot open to stare death in the face. 

The figure loomed overhead, half leaning over you with his shotgun still in place, silently contemplating you. 

“Any last words,  _ mariquita _ ?” His deep voice dripped with venom and scorn, distorted and rumbling as it was, sending a shiver through you, and you were certain it wasn’t because of the ringing in your ears either.

Breathing labored and short, you fought to keep your eyes on the figure, which grew increasingly difficult as your head had begun to spin and sent the world around you spiralling. 

“Are—” You were interrupted by more coughing. Once you regained your voice, you swallowed around your dry throat and tried again. “Are you the angel of death?” 

There, you were  _ definitely _ delirious.

But...you had to know, even if it might have sounded silly. Nothing else had come to your mind just then. Your voice was rough and small, but you knew he must have heard regardless because he cocked his head slightly, as if he hadn’t expected the question, adjusting his grip on the shotgun. The small movement drew your eyes towards his fist and you saw that he had claws wrapped around the gun’s handle. Maybe not an angel after all.

Seconds ticked by before the figure finally moved again, he kneeled down before you, his gun had moved underneath your chin and was used to tilt your head up. With his free hand he reached for his face. His clawed fingers gripped the bottom of the mask and smoothly pulled it away, releasing a different kind of smoke from behind it. 

Your eyes widened at his gesture, wildly darting between the bone in his hand and the black mass underneath that hood. He loomed even closer now, so you were able to see faint red orbs glimmering inside the swirly black mist that was his face. There was nothing else to see, only a black void with two burning embers for eyes, stealing the very last of your breath. 

After staring at him for what felt like decades, his voice washed over you once more. 

“Does this look like an angel to you?” He almost sounded amused, if the gravel of his voice could even deliver emotion. 

Well, not like a textbook angel. But how were you supposed to know? The only thing you did know was that this... _ person _ was anything but a normal human being and that was reason alone to be wary. 

You shrugged with your good shoulder. “Demon then,” You offered weakly and blinked through the fog in your brain, not entirely sure why you were having a conversation about religious entities with him in the first place. Probably to distract him and prolong your life.

The creature chuckled mirthlessly as he put the mask back in place, its empty eye-sockets staring at you lifelessly again. The shotgun at your chin forced your head to stay in its position and was starting to dig into your skin painfully, there was no strength left in you to keep it upright on your own. 

“Does it matter when I’m about to take your life?” Came the dark question from above and you frowned at the wording, how did one take someone else’s life? Your lightheadedness made it very hard to concentrate at the moment, so when you wanted to speak again it came out slurred.

“Guess it doesn’t…” You trailed off and wondered why the creature even indulged you with all this small talk.

The movement of him tightening the grip on his weapon to aim upwards at your brain sent a shiver through you, certain that this was your final moment. With it, you felt a rush of adrenaline hit you. Reflexively and in a last ditch effort you actually managed to raise both your arms, ignoring the exploding pain in your shoulder and gripped the gun to move it away from your head. Unfortunately, you might as well had tried to move a brick wall for all the good it did you, a faint cry of pain and frustration escaped you at the realization that you could literally do nothing. Still, your hands kept their feeble grip at the shotgun, your right one already slipping with the blood on it. 

The cloaked figure didn’t even seem phased by this act of resistance, he merely knelt in his spot, his strong arm unmoving at your pathetic attempt at throwing him off. Then again, how were you supposed to tell what he felt at all with that mask to hide his features from view. 

Whimpering, you wanted to hate yourself for even trying, and probably amusing the asshole, but deep down you were a fighter and hadn’t you suffered the blood loss and probably a concussion, you would have fought him tooth and nail instead of laying there to take his death blow like a rabbit with its foot caught in a snare. 

Your whole body shook as your muscles tried to keep up their position, but it became harder second after second, reminding you that it much preferred to black out any time now. But you couldn’t let that happen. 

With an annoyed grunt, the figure removed your hands off of his gun, but then stilled as he held your right wrist tightly, observing your ruined amplifying glove underneath the blood coating your entire arm. 

Suddenly his head snapped back to look at you and you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. 

“You are a healer,” He stated matter-of-factly before dropping your hand like a hot potato. You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his statement, but you had no time to dwell on it before your head dropped when he removed his gun from underneath your chin.

Then the world spun around you wildly again as you were being lifted off the ground none too gently, the giant metallic piece of debris slid out of your wound with a sickening sound and made you see stars before you finally blacked out with the pain of the forceful extraction. 

* * *

  
White, blinding light shone overhead as you slowly blinked your eyes open. You turned your head away from the garish, headache-inducing annoyance to get a bearing of your surroundings. Everything was just so  _ bright _ . The walls, the floor, not even your hand could shield you from it as it came upward to protect your eyes. 

Finally, you were able to make out details about the room you were in. Aside from the spare decor and white paint job, you could see a heart monitor standing next to you, the fine blue line dutifully displaying a heart rate. Movement caught your eye and you saw a small drone hovering above your body, apparently scanning your vitals. So, a hospital then?

That’s when your memories came rushing back; the mission in the warehouse, the explosion and the “angel of death” about to off you. Your pulse quickened as you looked down on your body, the piece of metal was gone, thankfully, the wound covered with a patch that should not have fit had you not healed as quickly as you knew you would after it had been removed, allowing the nanites to finally do their work to patch you up. 

Still, the wound must have been massive and the size of the patch suggested it was at most a few inches long. That meant you had been out of it for at least a day or two. That was pretty normal, given the circumstances.

With a sigh you lay back down, left arm covering your face while you let the relief of being alive and well wash over you. That whole ordeal had been pretty nightmarish. 

“Finally awake, I see,” A smooth feminine voice sounded from your left and in the haste to remove your arm, you almost knocked the small monitoring drone to the floor. 

A tall, red headed woman approached your bed, her features pointed and regal, the white lab coat she was wearing indicated that she was a part of the hospital’s medical staff. Without waiting for a reply she went on. 

“How are you feeling?” She didn’t even look at you as she grabbed a holopad from the bedside table, her long fingers tapping away at it. After the disuse of your vocal chords, you had to clear your throat before answering. 

“I, um...I’m feeling okay I guess?” You waited a beat. “Where am I?”

Finally, her gaze turned to yours and you could see that one eye had a different color to the other. 

“The nanite technology inside your blood made sure you’d survive,” She ignored your question, then grasped the holopad in both hands as she stood beside you. “I must say, it looks eerily familiar to me,” She pressed a button on the pad and the small drone hovered over to settle in her outstretched palm. It was turned off and put aside carefully. 

“It seems Dr. Ziegler has finally managed to reach her goal of incorporating our technology into someone’s body,” The woman said with a sharp smile. 

_ Their _ technology? You hadn’t been aware that Dr. Ziegler had worked on the nanites with somebody else outside of Overwatch or her Swiss based medical facility. And had this woman been there, you would have known of her, or at least her name. 

“Excuse me,” You tried a tentative smile. “I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch your name.” There was no name tag on her coat, only a small logo which you swore you had seen before but somehow couldn’t make the connection to just yet. Stupid concussion making your sight blurry and your memory fuzzy. 

“Dr. O’Deorain,” She said curtly and already turned away again to the other side of the room where more equipment was stored. 

O’Deorain...as much as you tried to find a connection to something, the name didn’t ring any bells. But apparently she was a doctor, so maybe she had worked with Dr. Ziegler together after all. 

“Do you know Dr. Ziegler?” 

From where you lay you could see a rueful smile flitting briefly over her thin lips. 

“I knew her, yes. We worked together for a short period of time.”

Interesting.

“But we soon discovered that besides our common goal in advancing human genetics, I was the one who was willing to go beyond the...pesky ethical ramifications our project was bringing up.”

That sounded concerning. 

“I knew she was going to keep her work up on it though, just as I have,” She concluded and brought with her a small object to your bedside. It was a small test-tube filled with blood. It was probably safe to assume that it was yours. 

“You must be one of her test subjects then,” She said offhandedly, swirling the blood inside the small container. Frowning, you adjusted your position on the bed. 

“I am her student, actually,” You corrected her, which earned you a raised eyebrow. You were starting to dislike this woman. “I was gifted the nanites as part of my education. And I was trained to use them on and off the battlefield.”

This seemed to pique her interest, a small hum was your answer as she seemed to be deep in thought at your statement. 

“Explain how you use them,” Her voice had taken on a breathy quality and it made you a little uncomfortable, though you weren’t sure why. Her sudden focus and undivided attention were unsettling in their intensity.

A sudden need to look away overcame you, but the strange urge to prove yourself kept your gaze locked with hers. 

“The nanites can heal me, obviously. But I usually wear a glove with amplifying abilities, it enables me to focus the healing through my blood into my skin and then into a beam which I can direct towards others as well,” You explained, showing your right hand in lieu of the glove. All the while the doctor was watching with rapt attention. 

“I see,” She mumbled, her index finger tapped her bottom lip pensively. “So does that mean you can still heal others through touch without that glove?”

You hesitated.

“Yes.”

Somehow you got the distinct feeling that you were telling her too much. So far, you hadn’t been given any real information about your condition or your whereabouts. Weren’t those the kind of things you would normally be told immediately after waking? The fact that the doctor had ignored your previous inquiry was alarming, to say the least. Nervously, you wondered if you should try and ask again, even though you guessed there wouldn’t be an answer. 

“Where am I?” You managed to ask in a steady voice as you searched Dr. O’Deorain’s gaze once more. She had moved further away from you, her white lab coat billowed behind her lithe frame as she came to a stop to gently put the blood filled test-tube inside an apparatus. With the push of a button the machine began to hum quietly. Once she was done, she finally addressed you. 

“This is part of my laboratory. I’d appreciate it if you refrained from touching anything. Somebody will come to escort you shortly,” Was all she offered before briskly turning around and leaving the room.

What a shit explanation was that? Her laboratory? You shivered. The things you had learned about her in the few sentences you two had exchanged were enough to make you uneasy. Whoever considered ethics to be  _ pesky _ was to be feared. 

Immediately, you decided that you had to leave this place, wherever it was. 

You waited a few heartbeats after the doctor had left you in the laboratory and got up from the hospital bed. You were filled with dread and unease; something was definitely wrong here and you didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out what it was. So you crept to the exit cautiously and passed the machine Dr. O’Deorain had put on, its low hum getting louder the closer you got. As you lay your hand on the door handle, your heart contracted with fear of it being locked, but you were able to open it. Relief washed over you. Maybe you were fretting for nothing? 

A light breeze coming through the crack reminded you that you wore a flimsy hospital gown instead of your regular clothes and you were momentarily unsure if you could proceed like that. At least it was closed front  _ and _ back, so it wasn’t revealing much. Still, it would have been wise to find real clothing sooner rather than later.

You peeked outside into a narrow corridor, only partially lit so the very end was cast in shadow. There was nowhere else to go though, so you stepped outside carefully. Creeping along the wall, you neared the end of the dark corridor which turned into a left turn, and you stopped to check what was beyond it. 

It was a gorgeous lounge, dim lights along the walls gave off a chill-out vibe, their orange glow illuminated several loveseats grouped together in a corner and a comfortable looking chaise-longue in dark purple tones topped off with polished wood. Your bare foot landed on the plush carpet, your toes wiggled in the tuft experimentally. 

Whatever you had expected to see, it wasn’t this. What kind of lab had such exquisite waiting rooms? Or whatever this was. 

It was definitely  _ not _ a hospital, that much was clear. 

Off to the side was a set of big double doors, made from mahogany by the looks of it. You certainly didn’t want to find out what was behind those, but luckily there was an elevator to your far right, the colors were held in similar tones to the rest of the room, but the buttons gave away that it was indeed an elevator. 

Quickly, you pressed the up button, because so far you hadn’t seen any windows whatsoever, and that could only mean you were below ground.

A pleasant confirmation tone chimed quietly, and you had to look around once more to make sure no one was coming. Hopefully, there would be no one in the elevator either. Maybe you should hide behind one of the loveseats just in case?

But before you could make a move, the door to the elevator slid open noiselessly, startling you with the bright light coming from inside. Well, if anyone had actually been in there, they would have seen you by now. 

Thankfully though it was empty and you stepped inside quickly, looking for another set of buttons only to find—nothing.

Staring at the metal and glass walls, you felt a slight panic rising. Why were there no buttons? Was it maybe voice controlled? You opened your mouth to demand to be taken to ground level, but already the doors were closing and you felt it moving upwards. 

Well, this was where you wanted to go anyway, so that was good, right? Your hands shook slightly with worry, you hoped to just get out of here and back to Overwatch base. 

You turned around and looked at yourself in the floor length mirror. Hair unkempt, pallid complexion and an ugly hospital gown completed your asylum inmate look, etching that frown on your face even deeper. You could have gone without knowing what you looked like right now. Smoothing your hair down a little with your shaky hands, you pulled at the skin of your face, wondering if you had been actually out for longer than you had originally thought. It was a possibility that only fed your unease. 

Suddenly, the elevator came to a stop, the pleasant confirmation sound ringing in your ears ominously. This was it, wherever this elevator had taken you, there was no escape now. Heartbeat in your throat, hands tingly, you flattened yourself against the wall and cast fearful eyes at the exit. 

The door slid open once more, and a man stood before you. 

Instead of running or attacking him, you just stood there, paralyzed. The man was slowly looking up from a holopad in his hands, his expression mildly surprised when he finally saw you. He took in your disheveled appearance and then your hospital gown. 

“What are you—?” 

But before he could finish his sentence, you sprinted forward and past him, knocking him to the side before he could even react. 

“Hey!” He shouted after you, but you were not going to stop, your bare feet slapped against the ground loudly as you made a mad dash for the nearest door. You could hear the man behind you, trying to catch up and your fight or flight kicked in, keeping you on your feet until you reached the next door after turning left in a long hallway with white marble flooring. 

With burning lungs and muscles, you made it to the door, almost knocking into it, only to realize that there was no handle to it, you searched the wood with your hands for any hints of a button or scanner, but there was nothing. Pushing didn’t yield any results either. 

“Shit,” You cursed and turned around to go and find another door nearby, but already the man who had followed you rounded the corner and jogged up to you, clearly out of breath. Pressing your back against the door behind you, you watched in trepidation as he came closer, annoyance clearly written all over his face. 

“For fucks sake,” He cursed, still trying to catch his breath. When he had finally reached you, he scowled. “Couldn’t you have waited for me to get you? Why all the fucking  _ running _ ?” 

“Who are you and what is this place?” You were done being left in the dark, you were due some answers. 

“What?” It was like he only now actually took a good look at you, his posture finally changed from hunched over to upright. “Shit, you’re not even supposed to be here,” He huffed in annoyance and cast a nervous glance around. “Come on, I’m already behind schedule,” He gestured for you to follow him, but you stood firm, your back still pressed against the wooden door behind you. 

“No way, just answer my questions already,” Your voice was firm and you wouldn’t budge before he told you. 

The man closed his eyes as if to keep himself from lashing out, the holopad was still in his right hand and when he looked at you again, you could see him clenching his jaw. 

“Just come along and you will get your damn answers.”

“No.”

“ _ Goddamn _ —” He raised his hands above his head in exasperation, then muttered something to himself while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, missy. You asked for it,” He said, and started advancing towards you. Immediately, you took on a fighting stance with your back against the door, let him come at you, he would pick up his teeth off the shiny marble floor by the end of it. 

When he was in hitting distance, you ducked and swung for his abdomen, only to lose your balance as the door behind you suddenly swung inwards and you fell backwards on your ass into another room. 

Ouch, that hurt. You rubbed your left hip and looked upward to see somebody’s legs. Then they bent forward and you could see their face. It was a tall, dark skinned man with broad shoulders and a scowl on his face. His sheer intensity had you paralyzed once again. 

Wordlessly, his gaze lifted from you to your attacker, who stared back at him in horror. 

“Sir, I can explain—”

“We will talk later, Warren,” His low voice carried a not so hidden promise of unpleasant things to come for Warren, the latter nodded jerkily and closed the door behind him, trapping you inside. 

You were still lying on the floor at the man’s feet, but you tried to find purchase with your good arm to try and turn around. As you struggled to get back onto your feet, you watched the man warily, he made no move to help or give you space, and as you finally managed to stand upright, he was still in front of you. Right between you and the solid wood door. From where you had lain he had looked imposing and tall, and even standing you had to tilt your head backwards to look him in the eyes. He was handsome with a strong jaw, a wide nose and dark intelligent eyes, and he was pinning you in place with just his gaze. Those eyes roamed over you from head to toe, lingering just a little longer on your right arm. 

Self-consciously, you gripped your hurt arm with your left hand and averted your gaze. While he was dressed casually, but still impeccably, you only wore this potato sack of a gown, with nothing underneath and you felt your cheeks grow hot. 

Silence stretched between you, and you wondered what to do. 

“In a hurry?” He asked out of the blue, rolling the “r” in an accent, drawing your eyes back to his face. 

“I, uh...nobody will tell me where I am,” You finally found your voice, even if it sounded smaller than usual.

The man made a non-committal sound and cocked his head. 

“That must be troubling for you,” He observed and you weren’t sure if his tone was condescending or not. 

“Yeah. So...where am I?” Goddamnit, somebody just tell you already. With a small smirk, the man turned away from you and you were ready to finally lose your shit for not getting an answer again. But then you saw that he had simply moved out of the way so you could see the big logo on the opposite wall. It was a stylized “T”, just like the one on Dr. O’Deorain’s lab coat. 

And that’s when you remembered. Goosebumps rose on your flesh at the realization that these people were  _ Talon _ .

“Ah,” The man’s smirk widened. “I see you recognize it now.” He said and walked over to a large table where he pulled out a fancy chair and beckoned for you to sit. Stricken with fear of being in some kind of Talon base, you wondered if it was possible to refuse. But so far, the man had been polite and maybe if you got through this you would be allowed to leave? Wishful thinking was all you had left right now. Taking a deep breath, you moved forward tentatively and took the offered seat. The man lingered behind you for just a second, making your skin prickle with the faint smell of his cologne, but then he moved away to sit in a chair across from you, putting distance between you again. 

Then he gave you the silent treatment once more, your nerves felt raw with anxiety and you were uncertain about what to do. Looking at the man was difficult, he exuded such an intense aura it was hard to directly look him in the eyes but also impossible to avert your gaze. Instead, you decided to fix a point behind his shoulder so you wouldn’t miss anything he was doing. 

“How terribly rude of me to leave you in the dark for so long,” He offered with a grin that revealed pearly white teeth. “I am Akande Ogundimu.” Although he made it sound formal, his introduction didn’t include a handshake. You idly wondered if it was for the best, seeing as his hands were bigger than your head and one was gleaming in a metallic way that suggested it was a cybernetic one. The image of him simply grabbing you and flinging you around like a ragdoll came unbidden, and so you shifted in your seat uncomfortably. 

“Maybe you have heard of me by my title: the Successor.”

You  _ had _ heard that title before. 

“Doomfist,” You said automatically, his head inclined in confirmation and something akin to pride. 

Well, shit. Not only were you in this Talon base, you were sitting directly in front of one of its leaders. A man with such delusions of grandeur surely thought a small fry such as yourself should be honored to meet him in person. Maybe it would be best to play along with whatever this was. 

You told him your name in turn, and with a deep breath you asked the biggest question inside you. 

“Why am I here?” But really, the question should have been “ _ Why am I still alive? _ ”

“We saved you,” He simply said, his eyes slightly squinting at you while he brushed his palm over the dark wooden table absentmindedly. Your eyes were drawn to the movement, it was his metal hand and you swallowed. Obviously, that was enough of an explanation to him, because he was looking at you expectantly.

“Was it you who detonated that bomb?”

It was a bold question, but you got the feeling that Ogundimu was a proud man, and he would gladly take claim for his actions. And just as you expected, his face lit up again, not needing to confirm or deny what you asked. 

“What happened to my team?”

“You were the only one we were able to retrieve.”

Your heart sank at his words. Were they dead, or had they been able to get out before Talon had swept in to finish the job?

“Why did you attack us?”

And with that Ogundimu’s mouth twisted in a frown. 

“Not everything is about Overwatch,” He rumbled.

“Then you were after the civilians,” Your voice rose in accusation, unbelieving how someone could want these people dead.

“Oh, I see,” He smiled again, patronizingly. “This is how Overwatch operates. By leaving its agents oblivious to certain facts.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Those ‘civilians’ were former Talon agents,” Ogundimu revealed and suddenly you felt like a fool. Why hadn’t Winston told you about the real reason you were retrieving those people? You and your team could be trusted, it was vital information after all. 

Could it be he was lying? Somehow you doubted that. 

“We couldn’t let them go and join the very organization that is trying to destroy us.” No, of course not. From his point of view, it sounded reasonable. “You were simply in the way, I’m afraid. Although it was a little like two birds with one stone.”

Anger rose inside of you. Although you weren’t sure that your team was dead, you were enraged at his careless remark, like any of you were expendable in this greater scheme of his.

You remembered lying on the dusty concrete floor of the destroyed warehouse, the giant piece of metal in your shoulder and you absentmindedly touched your healing wound while your eyes burned at the memory of the sheer fear and hopelessness you had felt. The uncertainty of your team’s fate.

“So...you saved me,” You uttered under your breath, not trusting the knot in your throat to let you speak normally. “After trying to  _ kill _ me.” Raising your eyes to stare at him, you swallowed any fear you felt. “Why?”

Ogundimu regarded you cooly, his cybernetic fingers traced small patterns on the table. 

“Those agents who tried to leave us, they were part of the medical staff. I believe you already met Dr. O’Deorain.” His eyes shifted to the hospital gown you were wearing, like he knew it belonged to the doctor. You couldn’t help but feel his eyes on you physically, even though it was silly, but you still crossed your arms in front of your chest—out of defiance of course. 

“I have.”

“Good. She agreed to take you in as a new student and helper in the lab.”

You gaped at the man in utter shock. 

“What?” This couldn’t be happening. Your worst fear was coming true, Talon had kidnapped you to work for them. And there was no way for you to refuse if you wanted to keep breathing.

“Of course you’re not going to work for free. You will be given quarters, food and clothing, as well as a monthly salary.” Suddenly he was all businessman. “What do you say?”

You wanted to scream at him to shove his ‘job’ up his ass, but thought better of it. 

“I’ll never work for a terrorist organization,” You ground out instead, watching the corners of his mouth curl slightly. 

“Funny. I was under the impression you were already working for one.”

You flinched.

Was he referring to Overwatch? Did he really call them terrorists?

“Overwatch is  _ fighting _ terrorists.” Nobody could tell you otherwise, you knew this to be the truth. 

“Hm, maybe you’d like to ask someone intimately acquainted with Overwatch’s affairs then.” There was a pleased smugness on his face, as he gracefully rose and moved to a big window on the other side of the room. Your eyes followed him, his steps were long and deliberate, but quiet. Like those of a dancer, or a fighter.

“Like who?” There was no one outside of Overwatch with that kind of information. Everyone involved from the old days was either part of the team again, or dead. He couldn’t be talking about Blackwatch either, it was publically known what the black ops division had been doing, and while it had been dubious things, it was wrong to call it terrorism. Those days were over, anyways. 

You watched as he half turned to you, still facing the window that overlooked a cityscape you didn’t recognize. 

“A ghost,” He said, his eyes lit up from the light streaming in. 

You blinked, but said nothing. 

“Sometimes, the people we believe to be dead simply  _ want _ that,” He said as he finally turned away from the window, instead moving towards you. “To be assumed dead, to be free, or to be somebody else.” As he was closing in, he moved beyond where you sat and came to stand right behind you. You became acutely aware of his presence and your hands clutched the material of the hospital gown as you felt him shift. Next, his voice came directly from your right side into your ear, making you move away a little. “I believe you know him as the  _ Angel of Death _ .”

And even before it clicked for you, Ogundimu moved away to laugh heartily. Irritated, you turned around and watched him hold his belly as he moved over to a counter to pour himself a drink. 

“He calls himself a lot of things,” He said after recovering a little from his laughing fit. “But certainly not an angel.” Then he drank the contents in one go, making you wonder what kind of person could jug a tall glass of liquor. Terrorist maniacs probably. Or maybe it was just water, who knew. 

So the encounter with the masked man had not been a figment of your imagination after all. 

You shivered at the memory. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“I don’t care what he has to say. I’m not going to work for you,” You ground out, not liking the way Ogundimu was laughing at you. That immediately sobered him up, putting down his glass he filled it again. Then, when it was full once more, he walked over to you and set it down in front of you. 

“I’m afraid I have to insist,” He murmured and looked at you expectantly. 

You ignored the glass, instead raised a challenging look at him. 

“No.”

He sighed. 

“Then you leave me no choice.”

You felt your heart in your throat while your mind provided a lot of images for the things he could do to make you accept. Or to dispose of you. Whichever he deemed the best course of action, you guessed. 

“I have to confess that I wasn’t entirely honest with you before.” Nothing in his demeanor had changed, which was somehow even more alarming than if he had screamed and attacked you. Again he moved away, this time to a big holo screen projector on the wall, a small display popped up when he was near and his fingers deftly tapped at the bright interface. The holo screen lit up and right then you could see a man whom you instantly knew to be Caleb, from an above angle, most likely from a security camera feed. He was sitting hunched in a corner of a nondescript room, a small cot next to him. It looked like he was in a cell. Which was probably exactly where he was. 

Fuck.

They had Caleb.

You closed your eyes in exasperation, how were you to refuse him now? They would surely do unspeakable things to your teammate if you remained uncooperative. These fucking bastards. 

But amidst your horror of knowing that Caleb was kept in this cell, you were relieved that he was not dead after all. 

“I see,” You said quietly, Ogundimu regarded you with a grave expression while you tried to find the words. “Should have known you’d fight dirty.”

The man smiled. “You don’t want to  _ actually _ see me fight dirty.”

You just stared at the screen, a hollow pit inside your stomach. 

“So if I don’t help you, he will suffer,” You said and finally tore your eyes away from your captured teammate to look at Ogundimu again. “How do I know you won’t do it anyway?”

Dark eyes squinted at you, then he moved right in front of you in two strides. 

“I give you my word.”

You wanted to scoff. To laugh him in the face for that blatant lie. To tell him that you had no use for obvious empty promises. But all you could do was to look in his eyes to try and gauge his sincerity, letting long seconds tick by. 

Really though, this wasn’t even a real choice. Believe him or not, you had to accept for Caleb’s sake, no matter if Ogundimu was telling you the truth about their treatment of your teammate. 

_ Ex _ -teammate. 

You sighed. Then you looked away and gave a curt nod. 

“Excellent,” The man said and extended his cybernetic hand toward you. You couldn’t help but eye it suspiciously, but you clenched your jaw and shook it, once. The metal of it was cold and unyielding, but he didn’t grip you particularly hard. When you wanted to remove your hand again though, he suddenly pulled you out of the chair and toward him. You stumbled, but he caught you with his flesh hand on your hip to steady you. 

He was so close you could feel his body warmth through your thin cotton gown, his grip on you firm but gentle. Then he spoke again with a half-smile, almost too close for comfort. 

“I am looking forward to working with you.”

You shivered violently, but before you could pull away he was already releasing you again, and you took an automatic step backwards. 

“For now, please refrain from wandering the facilities on your own. Warren was tasked to keep an eye on you, but he is obviously not fit for the job. So I’ll have to assign somebody new.”

You didn’t like where this was going. 

“I do think I have the right candidate, though.” Again he tapped on a holo display at the wall, a small chuckle shaking his frame. “She will be  _ thrilled _ .” This last sentence dripped with sarcasm, but you were too preoccupied with the realization that Talon practically owned your ass now, to care. 

“She will tell you all you need to know.” He gave you one last long look. “Welcome to Talon.” 

You felt sick to your stomach, no words found their way to you, and you opted to stay silent in the face of despair. Instead, you kept that frown on your face to speak for itself. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post the second chapter early, because I can lol
> 
> Find me on tumblr: danjo-ao3

“ _ Ay,  _ Akande. What is it now?” A woman of a rather small stature entered the room, her right hand busily tapping at purple holograms before her, while she popped her bubblegum noisily. Everything about her was purple, in fact. Her clothes, the tips of her dark hair, as well as her makeup. When she finally noticed you, a mixture between surprise and amusement crossed her face. “ _ Hola, chica _ ,” She greeted you, her demeanor cheeky and aloof as she waved her long nailed hand at you. “This your newest  _ conquest _ ?” The sarcasm rang heavy in her tone of voice as she addressed Ogundimu again and tsked, then proceeded to chew the gum obnoxiously loud. “Fresh out the asylum now, is it?” And she chuckled to herself at her remark. 

You could only sit and stare at her, all too aware of how you very much looked like she described you. Not that it mattered anyway, the only thing not sitting right with you was how she assumed you somehow were this man’s mistress. 

Ogundimu’s face betrayed nothing of what he might have thought about her careless comment. 

“Sombra,” He said curtly, making it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for her shenanigans. “This is our newest agent,” His hand gestured toward you and Sombra’s bubblegum popped again as she looked at you once more, the surprise outshining the amusement on her face.

But after another good look she grinned. “Ah, but you’re messing with me,” She said with a dismissive handshake, wiping the hologram before her out of existence.

Ogundimu smiled to himself. “You will look after her, show her around. Basically, you’ll be her  _ shadow _ for now.”

Sombra’s eyes narrowed, they flicked over to you, then back to Ogundimu. 

“Is this for the Volskaya mission?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, fine. But then we’re even, you hear me?” She sounded annoyed, but already went back to the door she had entered through, then she looked over her shoulder at you. “You coming or what,  _ chica _ ?”

With one last look at Ogundimu, you rose from the chair and walked over to the woman, hyper aware of both of their eyes on you. 

“First visit will be a closet. What  _ is _ that?” She opened the door while pointing at your hospital garb. 

“They’re—”

“Nevermind. We will get some decent clothes for you. Can’t be seen with you running around like  _ that _ .” With that she once again projected a holographic display in front of her, while she navigated through various interfaces with her hand. You bristled faintly at her jab, it wasn’t like it was  _ your _ choice of clothing either. But you got the impression that this Sombra woman wasn’t particularly interested in what you had to say anyway, so you just kept your mouth shut and tagged along.

You didn’t walk far, only a few corridors further and one staircase down and your surroundings resembled more of a hotel than a terrorist base of operations. The whole time Sombra managed to use her holographic projection, she didn’t even have to look away once, not even when you both descended the stairs. 

The furnishings down here were no less impressive than they had been upstairs though, the floor was carpeted, the walls a light cream and the doors looked like solid wood. 

“Come along now, your room should be right—” She walked two more steps and stopped in front of a door with a sign saying “3E”. “—here.”

You just stood there, unsure of what you were supposed to do now. After a few seconds, Sombra looked away from her hologram and frowned at you impatiently. 

“Open it?”

Then you hurried forward to turn the handle, but the door didn’t open, it was locked. 

Next to you, Sombra sighed dramatically. “ _ Mierda _ …” She said and began to fiddle with the interface of her holographic projection again, this time she went even quicker than before. “Stupid Akande didn’t even give me a damn key,” She mumbled to herself, but then you could hear the distinct clicking of a lock, then Sombra swiped her interface away again and brushed a strand of her hair behind one ear. “Go on, it’s open now.”

This time the door yielded inwards and you were greeted by a small sparsely furnished room with a bed and a chair in one corner and a door in the other. 

You stood in the room as Sombra brushed past you, on her way to the built in wall closet. She stopped in front of it, addressing you again. “Get dressed and we can continue our  _ grand tour _ ,” She said with mock enthusiasm, like a tour guide with too many years on their back.

The closet held a surprisingly large amount of varying clothes in it, the only thing they all had in common was the Talon logo embroidered on them. You couldn’t help but frown at that, you were still pissed that you were basically Talon’s bitch now. 

“How come you don’t have the Talon logo on your outfit?” You asked Sombra after removing a pair of pants and a hoodie from the closet, ready to change into comfortable,  _ concealing _ clothes.

Sombra barked a laugh. “Oh,  _ chica _ . I may be working for Talon, but I’m not one of Akande’s and Max’s little minions.” She scowled, then regarded her manicured nails. “I am more of a... _ freelancer _ .” Then she winked at you, before her eyes fell onto the clothes in your hand, which immediately made her scowl again. “So that is your choice?” One eyebrow rose, but then she apparently remembered that she didn’t actually care about you and waved any comeback of yours off. “Alright, you change and I’ll be waiting for you outside.” Then she went to the door, but before she left, she spoke up again “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Finally left alone again, you took a deep breath to center yourself. You undressed slowly, as if in a trance. Really, you couldn’t think about all this right now, it was too much, too fast. And you were sure you would break down on the floor into a heap of sobs and cries about how life specifically hated you. So instead, you stripped the hospital gown off of you, slipped on underwear and pants and finally the hoodie.

“That’s better,” You said to yourself, then looked around you again. The door on the other side of the room led into a small bathroom, with fluffy towels next to a shower and fragrant soap lying on the sink. Well, Overwatch had about the same amount of luxury, but  _ there _ you were allowed to leave…

Pulling yourself together again, you slammed the bathroom door shut and went to join Sombra outside of your new room. 

“What’s been taking you so long?” She sounded annoyed from where she stood against the opposite wall, not even looking at you as she worked on her holo interface. 

You only rolled your eyes at her for being so damn impatient. Already her demeanor was getting on your nerves, how you were supposed to get along with her at all was a mystery to you. But then again, who cared about your comfort here anyway? You were nothing but a prisoner, only that the metaphorical bars were shaped like Caleb.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Your grand tour, it turned out, was a trip to the gym, the practice range, and lastly the café (which kind of surprised you—which evil organization had a freaking café?). The feeling that you were actually in a grand hotel was starting to manifest. 

Sombra granted you access to all these places with her weird interface thingy.

“If you want to go somewhere else, I will escort you and if you behave,  _ maybe _ I’ll give you clearance for those as well,” She had said. 

But now you both sat in the café on a table close to a window, your gaze flitted over that unfamiliar cityscape. 

“Where are we anyway,” you asked and Sombra looked up from sipping her coffee. 

“Talon headquarters.”

Headquarters? Well, that explained the whole  _ very important _ and grand vibe of the place. You were about to mention that that hadn’t been your actual question, but somehow you knew you weren’t going to get a straightforward answer after all. 

You sighed and nibbled on your cucumber sandwich. Sombra hadn’t even asked what you wanted to eat and had ordered for the both of you with a few gestures onto her holographic interface. 

“Oh, our time’s up,” Sombra looked at you with those glittering eyes, then took one bite out of her own sandwich. “Akande wants you to go to the doc next,” She informed you and was already on her way out of her seat without even sparing another glance at you. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

And with that she left the café, leaving you behind with a half eaten sandwich lying on your plate. You regarded it thoughtfully, the meager appetite you’d had long gone. So you pushed the plate away from you and finished your coffee in silence. 

What now? You let your heavy head fall into your hand and stared wistfully at the sky outside, it was cloudy but still bright, a really nice day actually. And you were trapped here. 

After you downed the last sip of your coffee, you rose to get to Dr. O’Deorain’s lab once more, even though you felt apprehension at the very thought of going back there. 

As you left the café, you tried to backtrack the way you had come from, unsure of where the lab was situated. You groaned when you realized you were lost, you absolutely didn’t recognize your surroundings. You took the nearest elevator and commanded it to take you to the lower levels of the building, which it did. At least you were now one step closer to your destination. 

The doors opened to a darkened hallway not unlike the one that had led to the lab and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of your sense of direction. Cautiously, you moved along the halls and—lo and behold—there were the doors to the laboratory. All the joy you had felt at finding the way on your own vanished with a pang of anxiety in your gut. The doctor hadn’t seemed like a very pleasant person to you, having to work for her didn’t sound appealing at all. But you didn’t have a choice either way, so you went forward to find a way inside.

There was a card reader next to the doors with blinking LEDs and a holographic display asking for authorization. 

Of course you didn’t have anything on you to gain access; bloody typical. You realized you’d have to do this the old fashioned way and simply knocked with a slightly shaking hand.

After a few seconds, the door opened and another unfamiliar face greeted you as it peered through the crack. It was a young woman, maybe a little older than you, with spectacles and a messy brown bun on her head. 

“Yes?” She asked you with an accusatory glare. 

“Um, I’m supposed to meet Dr. O’Deorain,” You explained and immediately, the girl’s face lit up. 

“Oh, you must be the new intern!” She sounded excited and opened the doors wide to let you in. Well, this was the nicest welcome you had received so far and the knowledge of having someone benign at your side was at least a little comforting.

You stepped into the lab with trepidation, it looked the same as when you had left it in a hurry. The only exception was that the examination table was once again occupied. The black mass of a person created a stark contrast to the white surroundings and it made them stick out like a sore thumb. You instantly knew who it was, too. 

It was the man, slash demon, who had kidnapped you after the explosion. Unbidden, your breath hitched and you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide as you took in the entirety of his massive form currently lying on that table. There were several machines attached to him in various places, displaying his vitals. Flashbacks of a cold shotgun barrel pressed against your forehead made you shiver. 

So far you hadn’t been able to find an explanation for this hallucination you’d had, even though Ogundimu had not been subtle with his remarks about it. But now, fully awake and aware, you couldn’t deny that what had happened to you was as real as the man currently lying in front of you. Not a hallucination then. 

_ Holy shit _ . 

“Is everything alright?” It sounded from your right, and only now did you remember that you weren’t alone in the lab. Turning your suddenly stiff body away from the man, you again addressed the nice woman who had let you in. 

“Yeah,” You answered as your eyes darted back to the table once more. In the same breath and a slightly higher pitched voice you asked, “Who’s that?” 

“Oh, you’re really new, aren’t you?” She smiled reassuringly, set down a holopad she had been working on and motioned for you to sit next to her on a stool facing a long table currently holding a few test tubes. “First things first, I am Casey,” She held out her hand to you, which you immediately shook, and then you gave her your name as well.

“This there on the table is a man who calls himself Reaper, he’s in here quite often. I don’t know his real name, but Dr. O’Deorain is working with him,” Casey began, then she leaned a little closer to you and went on a little quieter. “Personally, I think she’s using him for an experiment of hers, though. Don’t know if he’s aware of it, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind.”

You squinted at Casey, then the man. 

“— _ Reaper _ ? He...calls himself that?”

Casey nodded with a shrug and a half smile. Like it wasn’t concerning at all that somebody named themselves after death’s persona. The fine hairs on the back of your neck rose at the memory of the man removing his mask to reveal inky nothingness and two red orbs that had stared into your soul. Already you were making a mental note to request not having to work in the lab when he was present.

“Don’t you find him creepy?” The incredulousness in your voice was hard to suppress. 

“Of course,” Casey pushed her glasses back onto her nose. “But I usually don’t have to deal with him, he’s Dr. O’Deorain’s project and she doesn’t like lab assistants messing up her work.” You could see a small frown beginning to form on her forehead as she finished her sentence. She sounded resentful. 

“So what do you do around here?” You changed the subject and looked around for emphasis. 

Already, she was perking up again. “Oh, I assist the doc with her work and do tests while she is doing her research and experiments.”

As you watched her you could clearly see that she was enthusiastic about her work. A question popped into your head. 

“Can I...can I ask you something personal?” 

“What is it?”

“Why are you here?”

Casey blinked at you once, then she smiled again. “I want to become a geneticist, and working under Dr. O’Deorain sounded like an opportunity of a lifetime.”

“But, you are also working for  _ Talon _ .” Why would a sweet girl like her work here? It didn’t seem like she was being forced to be here either. That, or she was a great actor. 

Casey deflated a little, the line of her mouth went grim. “Trust me, I know. And I don’t particularly like the fact that I am. But, like I said this was an opportunity I couldn’t have let fly by me.” She even looked a tad guilty. 

A long silence followed. The fact that she didn’t ask why  _ you _ were here spoke volumes. She definitely knew about you, no need to ask. 

That was depressing. 

Your gaze had landed on the man again, he was lying there like a storm cloud would hang above you forebodingly, a menacing presence that could strike any second. 

“Is he unconscious?” You asked Casey who had started working on her holopad again. 

“Yeah, he is in a regeneration phase.” She answered while tapping holographic buttons. “Has been blown up pretty badly in the last mission.”

“Blown up?”

“Yes, you should have seen him when he came in. He was barely in human shape at all.”

You gulped. What the hell was she talking about? But before you could ask her, Dr. O’Deorain entered the lab. 

“There you are,” She said to you in lieu of a greeting, and held out her hand to Casey who hurried to pass her the holopad she had been working on. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, doctor,” Casey responded immediately and as you looked at her you could see the admiration in her eyes. 

The doctor didn’t wait for your reply and went on to explain. “Subject R-24 has almost completed regeneration, he only needs his weekly dosage of serum 3442.” She sighed. “But I have to leave because some  _ cretin _ thought it would be a good idea to ship my chemicals with highly explosive substances.”

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she finally addressed you. “You two will have to administer the serum. One will inject, the other has to monitor the vitals.” That was all you were told before she left the lab again. 

Casey jumped from her stool and went to get the serum while you rose as well and awkwardly walked over to the displays on a big screen. Ok, you could do this, just checking and alarming Casey if something was wrong. There was the line indicating his heart beat, but something about it was off. The peaks weren’t high enough to be considered healthy, it was as if he took his very last breaths. With concern you turned to Casey, who was drawing the serum into a syringe. 

“What’s with this heartbeat?” You asked and while Casey removed any air bubbles from the syringe, she answered you. 

“Well, that happens when you’re kind of a wraith.”

A what?

You just stared at her, then at patient R-24, or rather Reaper, and decided that you were definitely staying as far away from him as possible. What  _ was _ Dr. O’Deorain doing here?

After disinfecting the spot she was going to use for injection, Casey inserted the needle in between the pieces of the man’s bulky armor, into the greyish dark skin of his left arm. It was surreal to watch how he lay there on the examination table in full gear, even his white skeletal mask was in place and his head covered by his black hood. Why had he chosen this specific getup? To be intimidating, probably.

When Casey was finished with the injection, she put away the syringe and removed the medical gloves she had been wearing. With a satisfied smile she turned to you, took a last look at the vitals display and moved back to her holopad. “I’ll just finish these reports and then we can wrap it up.”

“Okay,” You answered from where you were still standing, between the screen and the man on the table. While you didn’t want to look at him for longer than you had to, there was a strange fascination about him. Now that you were fully aware of your surroundings and your brain wasn’t lacking oxygen, you could finally take an actual look. You’d never seen someone like that before, and you were hesitant to believe what you’d been told. A wraith...what the hell was that even supposed to mean? Aside from the weird armor and extremely unhealthy looking skin on his arms, you thought he looked like a regular man. If said man was a shotgun wielding maniac. 

Your gaze wandered over his form, metal and leather created a thick second skin that clung to his muscular physique. The metal claws at the end of his fingers looked pointy and dangerous and you were certain he could disembowel a person with them if he so desired. 

As if on their own accord, your slightly shaking fingers reached out and touched the cold metal tentatively. You brushed them upwards over the back of his gloved hand and between two protruding spikes until you reached the gap between gauntlet and shoulder armor, your fingers hovered above his bare skin. Then you pressed the pad of your index and middle finger to it, sending out just a little bit of healing in morbid curiosity. His skin was not exactly warm, but not too cold either. It was really weird and you immediately wanted to remove your hand again as his skin began to warm from your touch.

Just then his body tensed, as if he’d been electrocuted, and the hand that had previously been lying motionless shot up to grab your wrist. Gasping in panic, you tried to wrench your arm free, but his claws were already digging into your flesh painfully. 

“Casey!” You called out to the other lab assistant, who turned around to you with a look of shock. 

“Hold on,” She said as she rushed over to you and tried to pry off the man’s claws from your arm. Not even with her help you were able to remove them, and you felt the panic inside you rising. It hurt like hell and you were sure he was going to draw blood any second.

But suddenly his grip did loosen and his hand fell off back to his side as if nothing had happened, leaving you to stumble backwards with the force of your pulling. You hit the wall with your back, still staring at the man on the table, who was once again motionless. Heart racing from your recent shock, you looked around to see Casey cautiously advancing towards you with her hands reaching out in a soothing motion. 

“Are you okay?” She asked as she finally reached you. 

With a last long breath, you finally relaxed enough to reply. 

“Yeah...I think.”

Casey stopped in her tracks, a frown on her face, then she turned around to regard the man again. “That’s really weird. This never happened before,” She explained, her finger tapping against her chin in thought. “Did you do something?”

Somehow, you felt embarrassed to confess that you’d touched him, your gaze fell to your wrist which was showing angry red spots where it had been nearly crushed, indentations showed where his claws had been. 

“Uh, I kinda...touched him.”

“ _ Oh _ .” The way she said it sounded like this was explanation enough for her. “Yeah, don’t do that. We’re not supposed to anyway.”

“Got it,” You said meekly, although you vowed to never be in the same room as him again in the first place. Any questions you had about this weird rule were interrupted by a loud noise coming from one of the monitoring devices. Casey went over and tapped the touch panel beside it, then addressed you once more with a smile. 

“Alright, we’re done here for today,” She announced cheerfully and shut off a few machines with practiced ease. 

“So, we’re just leaving him here?” You asked uncertainly, even though you hated how interested you sounded in that weird masked man.

“Yes, he will rest here for a few more hours,” She said offhandedly and already began turning off the lights. Hurriedly, you walked towards the exit, because you really weren’t keen on staying in this room with him while it was darkened as well. Hell no. 

You waited for Casey outside the double doors of the lab, feeling a little shaky from that whole ordeal just now and only wished to go to bed. She joined you quickly, a key card around her neck. She smiled again when she saw you, then proceeded to close the doors behind her. You couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t lock them. 

“Aren’t you going to lock the lab up?”

“And trap Reaper inside?” She laughed. “I usually do, but not when he’s still in. I did it once and he wasn’t exactly happy about it.” 

The way her face scrunched up spoke volumes. 

“What happened?”

“Well, let’s just say Dr. O’Deorain was even more pissed at me than he was. He simply broke the door down you see.” She shook her head. “What a mess.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “That sounds...terrifying, to be honest.”

“Doesn’t it?” But her laugh made her statement sound pretty ominous, and you started to wonder if Casey was alright. She almost seemed too cheerful. 

The first few days at Talon HQ went by for you in kind of a haze. You got up at six in the morning to get ready for your work in the lab. Thankfully, Reaper wasn’t present at all during that time, and you were a little relieved. 

Dr. O’Deorain apparently wasn’t much of a talker, the most she spoke to you were instructions or orders for your daily tasks. Today, though, she approached you with a gleam in her eye. You got a bad feeling immediately.

“Come over to the examination table, please,” She addressed you as she turned away, then you saw Casey looking at you with a mix between concern, intrigue, and just a little bit of envy. 

As you neared the shiny stainless steel table, you saw something lying on it. It was a glove; dark purple with wires running over its surface from the back to the tips. You knew right away that this was a new amplifying glove for your healing abilities. Curiously, you reached for it, then hesitated. Before you touched it, you made sure it was okay for you to do so. With a small nod, Dr. O’Deorain confirmed it for you and you picked it up. 

The glove was obviously still a prototype, the material wasn’t properly sewn shut and most of the wires weren’t even insulated. So you put it on very carefully. It fit you snugly. You made a fist to test the stretch of it and it felt like a second skin, expanding and retracting in time with your movements. 

You studied it some more before the doctor gave you a small sharp smile. “Go ahead. Try it.”

Tentatively, you rubbed the tips of your fingers together, a warm yellow light began to glow where they touched. Then you extended your arm away from you, concentrated and consciously began collecting your healing in the palm of your hand. The small glow at your fingertips began to expand and started sending light away from you in a concentrated, but gentle spray. Before it could touch the ground though, it dissolved into nothingness. 

After a few seconds, you started to feel your arm going numb, it grew heavy and you had to lower it back to your side, clutching it with your left hand to your chest.

That was weird. You never had experienced pain or discomfort before when you had used your healing ability. But this glove, it seemed to work differently than the one you had been given by Dr. Ziegler. 

Dr. O’Deorain was at your side in a heartbeat, unwound your limbs and removed the glove from your hand with a satisfied expression on her face.

You winced. 

“What was that?” You asked as you tried to rub some life back into your arm. 

The doctor chuckled quietly to herself as she laid the glove down on her work table, then she turned back to you. 

“This is my invention,” She began. “It is derived of the nanite technology your former mentor and I had been working on.” She reached over the desk to grab a small device, which she connected to one of the open wires. “Only that it is ten times more powerful than what she has come up with.”

You had a feeling that the smug smile she flashed at you was definitely meant for Dr. Ziegler. 

Great, apparently you were one of her new experiments, and her goal was to one up her old colleague.

“It is still in its test phase, but it should be ready for the upcoming mission,” The doctor informed you. 

“Mission?”

“Yes, the council wants you on the next one, and I have been working day and night on this amplifier.”

Your heart sank at these news. So you were supposed to actively accompany these terrorists on their terrorist attacks, too? It was bad enough that you had to help them in the science department, but you never agreed to be out in the field as well. 

Of course, what you wanted or didn’t agree to didn’t matter in the slightest and you doubted the doc even cared, so you chose to keep your mouth shut about it. 

“What kind of mission is this going to be?” You asked, but the doctor simply shrugged. 

“I didn’t ask,” Was all she said, apparently already moving on to much more important things. You wondered if the doctor tried to stay as ignorant as possible to Talon’s doings because,  _ maybe _ she had something like a conscience, or if she was simply too focused on her research to trouble herself with anything else. 

Experimenting on people definitely sounded more like option two to you, though.

When you didn’t move away from behind her, she turned around with an irritated frown. With a sigh, she put down the device. 

“All I do know is that I have two more days to finish this,” She said and pointed to the project behind her on the desk with a tilt of her head. “And I need all the time I have for it to be ready by then. So,” She narrowed her eyes. “Let me work, unless you want to run around and hug everyone you’re supposed to heal.” With that she turned around once more, the conversation over. 

That sounded reasonable.

You left her alone for the remainder of the two days you were working in the lab, instead talking and socializing with Casey who, you learned, would not be a part of the mission you’d been assigned to. 

That didn’t surprise you though, Casey hadn’t struck you as the kind of person who walks around shooting people. 

But neither were you. Well, of course you’d had gun training, but so far you’d never had to actually shoot somebody. And you’d prefer if it stayed that way, especially now that you were on the wrong team, too. Ugh, what a mess.

* * *

  
  


It was the day of the mission and you were seated in the briefing room. A dark place, the carpet, seats and table, even the walls were a dull grey, only accentuated by metallic details here and there gleaming in the dull indirect lighting. The only bright spot was the large Talon logo on the opposite wall, mocking you obnoxiously in its bright red colours. 

There were people sitting around you, none of whom you recognized, and they were quietly listening to Ogundimu, who stood at the head of the long oval table, explaining your course of action. 

Apparently, there were going to be four small teams of two working together at different places located around a big hotel where the person you were supposed to take out was currently residing at.

Assassination...well, this went off to a good start. You sighed inwardly, sinking into your seat a little more, not exactly trying to hide, but not wanting to be there either. 

The way Ogundimu spoke really made him sound convinced of his own plan, you could see now how he had been able to rise in Talon’s ranks up so quickly. He was leader material with his educated choice of words, the way he spoke and carried himself. It instilled awe and inspired confidence, not in you of course. But as you looked around you saw some of the others nod and even grin amongst themselves. They were sure his plan wouldn’t fail.

Everybody seemed to know about the person you were going to kill, there were no details given about him other than his name. This killing seemed to have been a long time coming. You weren’t going to raise your hand and  _ ask _ about him though, nope. 

What’s the saying again?  _ Ignorance is bliss. _

Ogundimu was coming to an end, some people around you sat up straighter, suddenly antsy with anticipation. They were looking forward to this, you realized with poorly concealed disgust, as you side eyed them. 

“Ah,” Ogundimu called out your name. “Are you ready for your first mission?” He gave you a lazy smile and crossed his arms in front of his massive chest. 

Everybody turned to look at you and you could feel your cheeks burn with self-consciousness. That was Ogundimu’s intention, no doubt. 

“Yes,” You answered, after clearing your throat tentatively. 

“Good,” He kept smiling, then addressed the others in the room again. “You will all work in the usual teams. We’re leaving in ten minutes. Dismissed.”

Suddenly everyone got up and left, already partnering up, leaving you to hurry up and follow them. Whom were you supposed to team up with? You had counted nine people, excluding Ogundimu who would be working alone. And that left you short one person to make a team. 

As you exited the room and stood forlorn in the hallway, a heavy hand fell onto your shoulder. You spun around in surprise and found Ogundimu towering above you.

“I have a special teammate for you,” He said ominously and started leading you towards the meeting point, his hand falling away after a few meters. 

A question burned on your mind, but you were hesitant to ask. 

“How is Caleb?” You just had to know. 

Ogundimu kept walking stoically, then shifted his gaze towards you. 

“Do your job and he’ll be just fine,” He said quietly, a hint of threat behind his words though, and you nodded minutely in understanding. 

The two of you neared your destination, an underground hangar with numerous vehicles and aircrafts suddenly opened up before you. The teams were already paired up and ready to leave, while you were still in the dark about your partner. The way Ogundimu had made it sound wasn’t very reassuring either. Who was this special teammate; Sombra? You hadn’t seen her in a few days, not after you spent the majority of the day at the lab. Apparently, she was satisfied with her observation of you. That, or she was finally bored enough to simply ignore you again. 

The man gave you a gentle push when you had stopped to take in the impressive surroundings, and he was now walking behind you towards a small helicopter. Its pilot was already inside, their features hidden from view by a helmet and visor, but you were certain that this wasn’t going to be that mystery teammate. Just as you walked past the cockpit on the outside, your head coming around to look in front of you, you saw him. 

It was Reaper. He stood in the shadow of the helicopter, dark robes and white skeletal mask in their usual place. 

You made a full stop and, with your heart in your throat, took a step back, bumping into Ogundimu behind you. 

No, no, no, no, no,  _ no! _

_ He _ was going to be your partner? Shit. You should have known, Ogundimu was way too amused by your whole dealings with the black robed man to not do this to you. 

“Your new partner,” the man behind you said, to Reaper or you, you weren’t too sure. But his smile was evident in his voice. You moved away from Ogundimu, trying in vain not to look as spooked as you felt. Reaper crossed his arms in front of him, regarding you through the mask on his face.

“You can’t be serious,” Reaper answered in his gravelly voice, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the darkness creating dramatic shadows on his mask.

“You have a flight to catch,” Ogundimu ignored him, then he produced your new amplifying glove from his pocket and tossed it to you, fully expecting you to catch it. Thankfully, you managed to grab it before it fell to the ground, regarding it for a second. It looked way better now than it did two days ago for sure, the stitching was impeccable, all the wires were secured inside the stretchy, dark purple material but still visible. You put it on your right hand, again testing its flexibility. 

“I work alone,” Reaper tried again to catch the other man’s attention. Ogundimu leveled him with a stare.

“You’re becoming more reckless.” The other said in a low voice, only meant for Reaper. “Last time it cost us the mission,” He went on after taking a step forward. “I cannot take that risk this time, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel, huh? Not as menacing as  _ Reaper _ , that was for sure. 

They were doing some kind of face off, both staring each other down and you stood there forgotten. You hated awkward situations like these, especially if it involved you.

Suddenly Ogundimu leaned away again, his stance became more casual and a small smile played on his lips. 

“I’m surprised. It was you who brought her here, why don’t you want to take her with you now?”

At that, Reaper’s head turned around to you like that of an owl, and your heart stuttered for a second there. Was he deliberately trying to be scary?

“So you want your new healer to die?” Reaper said to the other man, while still facing you. “Something will happen, and I will simply keep on living while she will be blown to pieces,” He went on, now fully addressing Ogundimu again. 

Cold shivers ran down your spine, his words sounded like a dark prophecy. All this seemed to be a terrible idea and you were keen on joining Reaper’s side on this matter. They should leave you behind to keep on working in the lab. 

But Ogundimu didn’t seem convinced of Reaper’s doom-mongering, his smile didn’t falter. 

“Well, she already encountered death once,” He looked over to you. “And emerged very much alive. I’d also advise you to not let it happen again.”

“I’m not playing babysitter.” Reaper ground out in a low growl, it was an unnatural sound you never wanted to hear again. You also hated how those two simply talked as if you weren’t there, like you were some kind of burden, or the annoying little cousin. 

You didn’t want to be here either, but nobody asked you now, did they? 

“I can take care of myself,” You just had to chime in, you were slowly getting annoyed with those two. You were an agent of Overwatch, for fuck’s sake. You could handle any mission. Reaper let his arms fall back to his side, tilted up his head to look down at you from even farther above. Then he made a non-committal sound and whirled away to enter the helicopter. You swore you could see dark mist following in his wake, but as you were distracted by it, Ogundimu’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder once more. Everytime it felt like a ton of bricks came down on you, making your knees buckle with the force of it. 

“Do good work,” He reminded you again quietly, “And your friend will be fine.”

You stared at him while you were dying on the inside. Great, he just had to add insult to injury with mentioning Caleb again, reminding you that you had to do whatever you were told. 

“Sure,” Was all you said, then brushed off his hand and followed Reaper inside the helicopter. The pilot had already started the engine and it was growing louder by the second. 

The helicopter was moderately sized for a small team such as yours. Two people fit comfortably in the back with a little bit of space between, thankfully. You tried to stay as far on your side as possible, leaning heavily against the door. From here you could see people scurrying away hunched over from the fast turning rotor blades. All except Ogundimu, who was walking at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets, back straight and looking right at you.

Was everyone in Talon so... _ intense _ ? 

With a small sigh, you shifted your gaze away from the man and instead focused on how the helicopter began flying upwards through a gigantic chute and into the beautiful late afternoon sky. Only a few clouds were hanging on the bright blue horizon and you had to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Suddenly something landed in your lap. Startled, you looked down and found a helmet lying there. The pilot had thrown it at you when he’d noticed your presence, he gave you a thumbs-up, and somehow this small gesture made you feel a little better. 

But as you put on the helmet you already felt foolish again, because this man was working for Talon as well. He was one of the bad guys. 

Just like you were now. 

_ Ugh _ . You could feel a headache forming behind your eyes. 

It was almost dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was a recently built apartment tower just across from the hotel. It was so recent in fact, that nobody had moved in yet. But furniture had been set up in various places, you noticed as you and Reaper entered one of the apartments with huge floor length windows. They let in the moonlight that was shining brightly tonight, which was a blessing really because you couldn’t turn on the lights without giving away your presence. 

This position allowed you to observe without being seen in turn. Really, you were just backup in case things went south. 

Although you hated Talon and definitely didn’t want them to succeed, you also wondered what would happen to you or Caleb should the mission fail. 

Reaper hadn’t spoken to you at all since you had taken off in the helicopter, and you were glad you didn’t have to talk to him. Now you were certain that the black mist you had seen before definitely hadn’t been your imagination. Whenever he was moving about, the sheer black mass rose up from the soles of his booted feet and outside of his mask. 

_ Well, that happens when you’re kind of a wraith, _ Casey’s words rang through your head and you unconsciously hugged yourself. The apartment was chilly, with no one living here the heating wasn’t on either. Somewhere in the small backpack you had brought was a fleece jacket you now took out and put on. It didn’t help all that much, though but it would do for now. 

Reaper was standing off to the side, looking out the window and absentmindedly checking one of his shotguns. 

There were so many questions when it came to him, you realized. He was a big puzzle you kind of wanted to understand, but also wanted to stay as far away from as possible. Some of the things Ogundimu had said to you were flitting through your mind. Like how he was able to tell you about how Overwatch was a terrorist organization as well.

You scoffed at the thought, really that was just ridiculous. 

At your small sound of incredulousness, Reaper turned around and laid down his shotgun on an unfinished kitchen counter nearby. 

“Just to make this clear,” He began, “Should something come up I’m going alone. Got it?”

You were about to protest, but thought better of it. If he wanted to do it on his own so badly, why would you fight him on this? You could tell Ogundimu how he didn’t let you come with him and really, it wasn’t like you could  _ force _ him to take you along. 

“Fine,” You said nonchalantly, then moved over to sit down on a couch standing in the middle of the room. At least you were going to be comfortable while you had to wait for everything to pass. 

And boy, was it  _ boring _ .

While you were sitting there, already getting tired from the boredom and only the moon for lighting, Reaper was still in his spot by the window, an ever present shadow giving you occasional sparks of anxiety. It was best to ignore him, you thought, and instead looked around some more to judge these people’s taste in home decor. 

Everything was so...bland. The furniture, the walls and carpets, even the pictures on the walls screamed pretentious and generic at the same time. Maybe these apartments were going to be rented for short periods of time instead of people buying them. 

You were interrupted in your musings by a small beeping sound. 

“Yes,” Reaper answered a comm device in his ear, then said “Acknowledged.” And picked up his shotguns to walk towards the door. 

“Should I—,” You began but were stopped by Reaper whirling around and just staring at you blankly. Alright, you got it: stay here. You sat back and watched him leave the apartment. 

What an egomaniac, you thought and snuggled into your fleece jacket to keep warm. The quiet was nice, you found, and soon enough you felt your eyes begin to drift shut. 

* * *

  
  


_ Bang! _

Your eyes snapped open, the serenity of the empty apartment greeted you but it was disrupted by the loud sound that had just woken you up. Across from you, there was the figure of a man inside a big black swirling mist curling in on itself and it was moving towards you. 

With a shriek and your heart in your throat, you jumped up from the couch, only to knock over the coffee table next to it. You ended up on your ass on the floor and finally, your sluggish brain was able to catch up. 

Before your eyes, the deathly white mask of Reaper was staring at you, and you consciously tried to calm down. Although that was quite the task, seeing how disfigured he looked. Besides his mask, nothing was in its original shape. His robes were torn, the left side of his torso didn’t seem to be able to decide on whether it was corporeal or not, the black mist coalescing into a part of a lung or skin tissue, then blowing apart violently again. 

Horrified, you watched him approach you, a low pained groan erupted from him and somehow sounding from all around you as well. 

He came ever closer, and although you knew he hadn’t come to kill you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of trepidation. It was almost funny how you could have ever mistaken him for an angel.

He hadn’t moved towards you though, but rather the couch, and now sank into it. With a small breath of relief, you struggled back up again and over to your backpack to retrieve the amplifying glove. 

“Leave it,” He ground out, his voice wavering as he leaned his head onto the back of the couch. 

With a frown you stopped what you were doing and looked at him questioningly. 

“I don’t—” He had trouble breathing. “—need your help.”

Incredulously, you propped your hands on your hips. 

“What?” You asked him with an air of annoyance. “Look at you. You’re only half human...or whatever you are, right now.” 

“I’ll manage,” He retorted stubbornly, and then you decided that he could die for all you cared.

“Fucking hell,” You muttered under your breath and stuffed the glove back inside your backpack, zipping it unnecessarily harsh. How irritating could someone be?

Still shaken and angry, you opted to sit down in a corner of the living room where you were able to still see what Reaper was doing. If he didn’t manage to heal on his own, you were going to have to help him out eventually. Ogundimu would not take kindly to you letting one if his agents die on your watch. The one having to suffer would be Caleb. 

Minutes ticked by, the sounds coming from the wounded man were slowly turning from agony to lesser pain, and you were relieved that your help apparently wasn’t needed after all. 

What a waste of time that has been, you thought as you sucked on your teeth absentmindedly.

Then suddenly, Reaper spoke to you again. 

“Come here.”

Instead of the command spurring you into action though, it made you freeze in your spot. You stared at him, and he at you while he was clutching the left side of his body. 

He growled when you didn’t do as you were told. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He warned, and finally you were able to get up, put on the glove and walked over to him on slightly shaking legs. 

When you stopped before him, he carefully removed his clawed hand from his side to reveal the damage. 

You winced sympathetically at the sight. Flesh and bone were visible amidst black mist that was trying in vain to knit them back together.

“Don’t just stand there, do something.”

Bristling, you concentrated on your healing ability, had it collect inside your palm and sent it out through the tips of the glove. Golden white light illuminated the black robed man before you and lit up the skeletal mask. You could see how flesh and bone were mending back together where the light spray touched his wound. Amazed at how fast he was healing, you wondered how Dr. O’Deorain had managed it, how she had altered the technology. 

The bones were completely regenerated after a few moments, but you also felt your arm going numb again. Oh damn, the doc hadn’t changed anything about the glove’s abilities. The numbness soon began to fade and instead a dull pain began to throb, and you had to stop what you were doing. With a hiss you tried to rub life back into your appendage. 

“Finish it,” Reaper growled at you, apparently very much in pain. 

“I am trying!” You snapped back at him, fed up with his attitude and irritated by the pain. But there was no way for you to go on like this. “I can’t use this,” You finished as you pulled off the glove.

“What?” Reaper sounded annoyed, looked down himself and cursed. “Can’t you do it without that thing?”

You stopped and thought for a second. Touching him had not been a very good idea before, you remembered. Last time it had ended with his fist almost crushing your wrist. So you were reluctant to do it. Reaper must have seen your hesitance, because suddenly his bloodied and smoking hand shot forward to grab you by the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. 

With a small yelp you landed on the couch beside him, propping yourself on your knees in order to not land directly in his lap. 

“Listen,” He growled and you could feel the points of his sharp claws dig into your neck while his mask was mere centimeters away from your face. “You will heal me now or I can simply take your life force from you.”

You swallowed. 

“Either way, I  _ will _ be whole again,” He ended his threat, but kept holding onto you. 

“Okay.  _ Okay _ , fine!” You answered with your throat closing down in fear. There was no reason not to believe him. “Just—let go.”

Slowly, Reaper’s claws unhooked from your skin, leaving papercut fine wounds in their wake.

Finally free again you pulled away from him a little, wanting more space between you two. 

“You need to move your arm,” You told him with a false calmness, and watched as he raised his arm to let it rest on the back of the couch, creating a space for you to get a bit closer to where you needed to be. 

You raised shaking hands to his still open wound, fighting the urge to flee, and concentrated on your healing once more. Your palms became warm, the inner flow of the nanites inside your blood were a pleasant prickling on your hand and you closed your eyes in concentration.

With a final breath out, you closed the distance and touched him, his small grunt of pain made you jump a little although you had expected it, but you were able to keep up the healing process.

Beneath your fingers muscles began to form and take shape again, as well as vessels and fat tissue. Reaper sighed and seemed to relax beside you, that was a little reassuring at least.

Everything would have been fine, the healing was working, you had no time pressure and in this darkness you didn’t even have to close your eyes to not see how you were healing a Talon terrorist, slash mercenary, slash murderer. 

But suddenly he groaned. No, actually  _ moaned _ , and it broke your concentration. “There’s another spot,” He went on quietly and pulled your arm until you were half leaning over him. He guided your hand to his shoulder, where you felt was another wound quite deep as well. Your chest touched his, the coolness of his metallic armor seeped through your fleece jacket in no time and you shivered. The way you were lying across him now was uncomfortable, and very awkward. 

Apparently, he thought the same because soon his hands started to rearrange you so you were actually straddling his legs, the metal again cold and unyielding beneath you, or were those his thighs? Either way, while he was visibly relaxing, you were a tense ball of apprehension, your concentration fleeting as your heart was hammering in your chest. You were still healing his wounds though, determined to finish it up as quickly as possible.

So when he stopped moving again, you felt confident enough to close your eyes and flee from reality for a moment, and that dreadful mask, instead focusing on the healing; one hand at his side, the other on his shoulder.

The only sounds you heard were Reaper’s ragged breaths and the blood rushing in your ears.  _ Please _ let this be over soon, you prayed. 

Again Reaper moaned quietly and you felt your stomach twist, you were so unbelievably uncomfortable with this whole situation. Why was this turning so weirdly...sexual all of a sudden? Your healing had never had such an effect on someone like this before, why with him?

While you were crying on the inside at the unfairness of it all, Reaper’s hands crept up your legs and came to rest on your waist, causing your breath to hitch and the healing to stop with how you wanted to pull away. 

“No,” The man purred, “Keep going.” Then he leaned his head away again to let it rest on the couch’s back. 

Oh god. This sounded so wrong. 

You shook your head to clear it. Well, you would definitely have a word with someone about this later, but now you had to finally bring this to an end and be done with it.

So, with shaking hands, you resumed the mending of his wounds, trying in vain to ignore his big hands on your sides, and how they seemed to squeeze you from time to time. 

It was a long process without you being able to use concentrated healing through an amplifier, but it would get the job done eventually. Of course such work was tiring. Already you felt the fatigue in your joints, creeping up from your hands to every part in your body. That was natural and bound to happen, but it seemed tenfold after using Dr. O’Deorain’s glove, and you weren’t exactly happy about it. Especially now in this particular situation.

Your breathing became heavy, you felt light-headed and had a hard time focusing on what you were doing. The only thing that kept you going was Reaper’s menacing presence, your instincts screaming at you to flee from him. 

The more you felt your conscious slipping away from you, the more energetic the man seemed to become. You could feel him shifting and sighing as if he was greatly enjoying this, only adding fuel to your discomfort. Although all of this was starting to fade into the background, the only thought inside your head was  _ heal, heal, heal _ . 

And so you pushed yourself further, harder, to finish what you had started and get the hell out of this weird position. Somewhere in your mind you even yearned for the little room they had given you at Talon headquarters. Anywhere but here was fine, really. 

Unbidden, thoughts of Caleb came to you, his pallid face staring into nothing in a greenish camera feed, how you had imagined him blown to bits in the warehouse explosion and how this man here had come to take you away from your previous life. 

_ Mariquita _ , he had called you. You remembered that detail, even though you had no idea what it even meant. 

Soon the fatigue was starting to become painful again, you desperately tried to keep your eyes open, but they just wouldn’t do what you told them to. Nothing was working anymore, all the control over your body and  _ life _ had been lost and all that remained was a puppet. A puppet with your eyes and a broken smile. 

A sob escaped you, you noticed somewhere far away. Blackness was crashing over you like waves. Waves of fog, or mist as dark as night while a blood red moon hung over you. 

Distantly, you felt those clawed hands slide up your back, pulling you into an embrace and your cheek came to rest on a broad, fully intact shoulder. Cool air was blowing past your ear with the rumbling of a voice. What was it saying?

“—not done yet.” You were able to pick up the last part of the sentence, then your hands were positioned onto the almost completely healed wounds again, and held in place so they wouldn’t slip away. The healing you sent out were the very last remains of your ability, but it was still working. And with it, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. 

_ Heal or die. _

You whimpered pathetically while your muscles spasmed and you lost all the feeling inside your fingers. Soon you were silently begging to fall unconscious, anything to get out of this feeling of actually  _ dying _ . 

Then, finally, Reaper hummed and released you, only to grab you again as you were slumping to the side.

One of his hands found their way around your throat, holding you in place before him. You could barely open your eyes, but what good would it do you anyway. All you were going to see would be his stupid mask. 

“Nice work,  _ mariquita _ ,” He said with his head cocked slightly to the side. There he went with that word again. “Maybe I’ll keep you around after all.” He sounded thoughtful from what you could gather through the haze. 

“Yay,” You whispered sarcastically, and that seemed to amuse him. The rough sound rippled through him and right into you as well, considering you were practically laying on top of him. As if his sinister laugh wasn’t creepy enough. 

“You can—,” You tried swallowing around his grip on your throat. “—let go now.” But his fingers didn’t loosen their hold at all, instead he used them to turn your face a bit this way and that, as if he was trying to memorize your features. 

Creep. 

You wanted to raise your hands and push him away, but even that was too much of a task right now. 

“You did such a good job at patching me up. I feel...great.”

A second of silence. 

“Maybe I should return the favor,” Reaper mused. His demeanor had changed somewhat from the distant and cold killer to a calmer version. Even his voice had changed in timbre. But your thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly shifted beneath you, and his thighs began to spread causing you to move forwards and directly onto his crotch. 

Your breath caught.

_ Oh god _ , let this bump between your legs be a shotgun shell or just another belt buckle. 

There must have been something affecting the man because you could feel soft, warm lips pressing gently against your ear where there should have been a cold, hard mask. 

“Oh,” You gasped and honestly, it was a miracle that you were still able to talk at all. 

But those lips kept exploring the shell of your ear, making you shiver with the exhale of his next words. 

“I’ll take care of you,” He murmured and rolled his hips into yours for emphasis. 

All you managed was a weak whimper, you felt so powerless in his grasp, sapped of all your strength. And really, that’s exactly what had happened. You’d drained all your power into healing him and now he was feeling great,  _ excited, _ while you were a limp sack of potatoes trying to stay awake. 

“Stop,” You tried, but it only came out a breathy whisper. A whisper he should have heard, though. So he was ignoring you, the way he was beginning to feel you up was an indicator. Or his wandering lips, brushing your jaw and then your neck at the spot where his claws were not currently digging in to keep you in place. 

This couldn’t be happening. Through the fog in your brain you could feel a panic rising. You were alone at this killer’s mercy. 

“Get off,” you croaked, cursing your weak voice and how it made it all sound so ambiguous. But you weren’t playing or teasing here. You managed to raise one arm and limply held it against his leather clad chest. If only you could at least push away, put some distance between yourself and him. 

Reaper’s lips brushed over your jugular, then he used his teeth and you swallowed drily at the sensation. It felt like he was about to deal the final killing blow. You had been today’s prey and now his meal.

A violent tremor ran through your body. 

Slowly, he moved his face towards yours and through blurry eyes you could see his face—a dark smudge with burning red eyes, just like you remembered. It was difficult to discern with only the moonlight illuminating him. But then you blinked and it all became a little clearer. Underneath the smoke there were human features, a face marred by multiple scars criss-crossing over his nose and cheeks. As you looked on you saw peppered black facial hair, surprisingly well trimmed, and plush looking lips underneath. 

In another life you might have called him handsome, but as it was you were too terrified by those burning demonic eyes to keep that thought for long. The smoke rising steadily from him seemed to clear a little as you watched one corner of his mouth curl. 

The claws around your throat started pulling you into him further, fuelling the panic burning in your chest and with a breathless whimper your lips met his.

Everything he was doing was deceptively gentle, yet there was nowhere for you to go and he let you feel it in the way he held you and how his mouth brushed against yours sensually, followed by a wicked tongue licking over your bottom lip. Oh shit, this was spiralling out of control so fast it made your head spin. 

In your dizziness and pain, even this unwanted attention suddenly started to feel...nice. 

And wrong, so so wrong. 

All you could do was to try and cling to the last bit of strength and defiance in you that screamed how all this was  _ wrong _ and how there was  _ no way  _ you were enjoying any of it. Even though those soft caresses had you weak and pliant within moments. Somehow being sapped of all your strength and free will, to then being shown the smallest bit of comfort had your body convinced that it was enjoying this fucked up scenario. 

You were practically lost in the sensation of his kiss, your mouth had gone lax sometime between his licks and nips and how he had deepened it considerably. You hadn’t even noticed how his grip on your throat had transferred to the back of your skull. The pointy ends of his claws dragging against your scalp had you shivering in his grasp. 

Through the fog in your brain you felt how he ground against you, his evident excitement pressing into your most intimate parts. 

The rage that had turned down to a simmer inside you flared up anew and with it a wave of newfound energy. You finally managed to push at his chest. The force you used dislodged his grip and as you fell down to the floor, you could see the surprise on his face. A small victory. Even if you’d hurt your butt in the process. 

With shaky hands and legs you crawled away backwards, until you hit the upended coffee table behind you. 

Surely, he wouldn’t let you off so easily, but Reaper remained in his spot on the sofa, his legs still spread and a smug expression on his face. 

Then he simply got up to move to the corner where he had previously dumped his weapons. He appeared like a different person now, you noticed how he carried himself with ease and that his shoulders were less hunched.

You, on the other hand, were still shaking like a leaf where you lay in a heap on the floor, still catching your breath in your state of shock. Wary eyes casting anxious glances in his direction. 

* * *

  
  


Neither of you had spoken another word after that incident and were now sitting in the helicopter again. Weariness and exhaustion were weighing down your limbs and phantom touches still ghosted over your skin in places that caused goosebumps to spread in discomfort. The thin fleece jacket around you didn’t help much with keeping you warm anymore, but not because it was especially cold around you, it was also an empty feeling inside that had you shivering. 

Apparently you were still in shock, because even though your body was tired, your mind kept racing. Lips on yours, demanding, taking. More and more, your denial ignored, cast aside like it was nothing. An emptiness in your stomach made you sick, the feeling of control slipping through your fingers had you on edge and strangely lethargic as well. To say you were a mess right now would be an understatement. 

All the while he was there, right next to you, sitting on the other side as if nothing had happened. No word of apology, or promise of it never happening again fueling the unease inside you. 

You tried to calm down, this had just been an accident. 

Yes, an accident. And it would  _ never _ happen again, you would make sure of it. 

When you touched down at Talon HQ again, you fled from the helicopter as fast as you could, glad that you managed not to stumble or trip as you walked towards your room in a haze. 

Rounding a corner, you bumped into someone. You didn’t even have to look up to see that it was Ogundimu. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He sounded amused. 

“I need to sleep,” you answered meekly, clutching the small backpack to your chest, eyes downcast. All you wanted right now was to curl up in bed. 

Ogundimu made a pensive sound, then his hand landed on the familiar spot on your shoulder, albeit much gentler than all the times before. The contact made you look up again, and you found him fixing you with an almost inquisitive stare. 

“How was your first mission with Talon?” 

The question caught you off guard, what were you supposed to say?  _ “Oh, it was alright. Just got up and real personal with the Reaper. Is there a way so I never have to see him again, by the way? _ ”

Another million retorts went through your head, varying in their degree of sassiness. So you bit your tongue, took a breath and instead shrugged. “I did my job, as you asked.”

As Ogundimu regarded you, you wondered what he would think of what had happened between you and your teammate. Considering that the man was a criminal, he probably wouldn’t even care about some underling medic. 

“So you did,” Ogundimu said slowly, then he lifted his hand as if to pull it away, only to brush a lock of your hair to the side, his eyes narrowing as they focused on your now exposed neck. 

You stood there, immobile and mute in the face of his scrutiny and what he must have seen, and before you could find your voice again he finally removed his hand. 

“You can tell me the details during the debrief.”

Your heart sank. Oh no, not a debrief. That meant you’d have to be around all the Talon goons and their stupid smug faces again when everyone would clap each other on the shoulder for a job well done. 

Sighing inwardly, you turned around again at Ogundimu’s casual gesture for you to lead the way. 

His looming presence behind you did nothing to ease the tension in your body. Inside the debriefing room, you opted to stay in the shadows again, tucked in a corner, as Ogundimu moved to the head of the large table. A brilliant smile stretched across the Talon leader’s face as he addressed his agents and congratulated them on their success. 

But as you looked around, you noticed that a few people were missing. There had been at least half a dozen more seats occupied at the briefing that morning. Apparently, Reaper hadn’t been the only one to get shot up.

The very small smile tugging at the corner of your lips went unnoticed. 

Ogundimu kept rattling on about each person’s role in the operation, acknowledging even the smallest wheel of his intricate machinery of agents. Lastly, his gaze fell on you. 

“Of course we can’t forget our field medics.” He smiled at you. “It seems your work with Dr. O’Deorain is paying off. I rarely have the time to see her, so please send her my regards.” His eyes were sharp in the semi darkness of the meeting room, the illuminated backdrop of the mission details glowed like a halo around him. 

You swallowed around a lump in your throat, but found that you couldn’t get any sound out. A small nod had to suffice. 

Apparently happy with your non-verbal affirmation, Ogundimu went on to conclude his retelling of the mission and dismissed everyone shortly thereafter. This couldn’t have been over any faster for you; what an ordeal. 

Finally, all of your team was dismissed. You sighed in relief and went to get out of there as fast as your tired feet could carry you. 

The next morning, you didn’t even remember much of the walk to your room, or how you washed your face and disrobed to get in bed. What you did remember though was the vivid nightmare that had plagued you during the night. 

Of being wrapped in a heavy, silky robe of darkness that had seemed to caress you slightly and had hugged you so completely you hadn’t been sure if breathing had still been possible. It had been both terrifying and strangely soothing. 

Until you’d felt something sharp and pointy dragging along your skin everywhere, even though you had started to beg and plead for it to stop. It hadn’t, and you’d started to panic, frantically trying to breathe through the mist that had started to seep straight into your lungs, filling them completely with its presence and just lingering, heavy and dark. It had kept going on and on until, with one final desperate breath, you had awakened. Soaked in sweat and tangled in your sheets, the pale morning light creeping through your only window. 

One hand clutched your chest, trying to will away the feeling of trepidation that still had a grip on your lungs. You kicked off the sheets the rest of the way and immediately went for the bathroom, where you splashed cold water in your face. A look in the mirror revealed dark circles under your eyes, a gaunt in your cheeks and paler skin. You really had given it your all yesterday. It was scary. Never before had you healed someone like that, until you’d almost fainted. It had taken quite a toll on you, better to not repeat it.

A wry laugh escaped you from that thought. Surely, Reaper would understand if you told him how it made you want to fucking die. He seemed like a reasonable guy…

One hand wiped over your tired face, the other clutched the bathroom sink. What were you going to do about this? Probably nothing. This was just how things were going to be from now on. Hysteria was battling with tiredness inside you at the prospect of having to go through this again and again. Of having to face Reaper once more, to see the skeletal white of his mask staring back with those dead eyes. 

With a heavy sigh you pushed away and out of the bathroom to get dressed. This was just another day at Talon headquarters and nobody gave a shit if you felt bad for any reason. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr: danjo-ao3

You got ready for another day at the lab, trying to forget all about last night. Be a good little assistant to very important Dr. O’Deorain. 

Casey was her cheerful self as she greeted you over the bagel she had snuck inside the lab while she cast around slightly nervous glances as the doctor had chided her once for bringing food into her lab. 

“It’s silly, don’t you think? It’s not even touching anything. I’m always careful.” With a small roll of her eyes she popped the last bite into her mouth, then wiped her hands on her white coat. “So what’s up, how did that op go?”

You frowned at the mention of the mission. 

“It uh, it was a success,” you offered, as you went to sit down at one of the tables with lab equipment. 

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” She followed you to the workstation and sat down next to you, but only after pushing her chair a little closer to yours. Then she leaned in and lowered her voice. “I heard that you had to work with Reaper.”

Oh no.

You raised your gaze to hers, pleading with your eyes to not go there, but she just pushed her glasses up her nose and raised her eyebrows at you.

“Well, what is he like? I’ve heard so many different things about him, and I want to know which of it is true.” With a huff, she sat back in her chair, one finger at her chin and casting her eyes towards the ceiling in thought. “I only ever see him when he’s, you know—” She motioned towards the empty examination table in the middle of the room. “—when he’s knocked out.”

Your eyes followed to where she pointed. Unsure what to tell her you asked her to specify instead. 

“Well, what have you heard?” Maybe she’d get that you didn’t feel like talking about it the more you got her to rant.

“That he,” She got closer again. “That he _drains_ people.”

A shiver ran down your spine. 

“They say that when you’re lucky, he’ll shoot you with those shotguns he carries around. But if not, he’ll leave you a husk.” By the end of her sentence she was almost whispering, like she was telling a ghost story by the campfire. 

A husk. That was kind of what you’d felt like after that encounter. 

Your gaze fell to the floor. “I actually didn’t see him in action, he went alone. I was simply...patching him back up after it was all done.”

Casey sat back, her curious expression turning to one of disappointment. “Oh well, what a shame. I bet he’s really scary in action.”

You couldn’t believe her. As if working alongside a homicidal murderer was anything but terrifying and to avoid at all cost. _Scary_ wasn’t even beginning to cut it. Red shining orbs flitted through your memory and had you suppress a shiver. 

“Yeah, I guess.” You answered meekly.

“Are you alright?” Casey cocked her head to the side, the messy bun on her head flipping along. 

“Sure, I’m just tired.” It was true, you were still feeling drained from all the healing you’d had to do. You wouldn’t be up to your normal self for at least another day, that was for sure. 

“How bad was it? I remember once when he was here—you should have seen it—he’d been barely able to hold shape, it had seemed like his entire left arm was missing.” She shook herself in abhorrence. “But, as usual, he made a full recovery. If you can call it that, I suppose.”

You winced. Surely, it couldn’t have been worse than what you’d seen the night before. The image of that dark mass, mist swirling around and shifting in and out of human shape, would haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“It was pretty bad.” What an understatement. “But, aside from the worst of his wounds, he seemed to be able to heal himself pretty effectively. How exactly does he do that?” Now that you remembered, he had not called upon you for the first half hour or so, until the mist had finally decided on where to take form. 

Casey blew out a frustrated breath. “I wouldn’t know. Dr. O’Deorain doesn’t tell me the details of her work on him. Only the necessary parts, to get him back into shape. But what is _in_ the serum that I administer, I don’t know. She’s very secretive about that project of hers.”

Well, whatever was in it seemed to be responsible for the state he was in, you were sure of it. _Wraith serum_ , your brain helpfully provided, and you suppressed a sarcastic laugh. Ridiculous! 

The rest of your day was uneventful, thankfully. You worked alongside Casey in the lab to get some tests done on a few blood samples, put a couple of liquids in the centrifuge and took notes while Casey examined slides under the microscope. It was nice. Distraction.

Only when you went to bed that evening, new nightmares plagued you. They came every night now. Terrifying you in different ways. Sometimes your mind provided a visual manifestation of your fears, but mostly it was just this feeling of darkness creeping over you, consuming you in every possible way and stealing the air from your lungs. Replacing precious oxygen with black mist that made you feel like drowning. 

Every early morning you woke with a start, sometimes with a hoarse shout, other times with your breath choking on a silent scream. Always with a frantically beating heart that would take a while to calm down. This was starting to adversely affect the amount of rest you got. You felt tired all the time, when you tried to concentrate it was almost impossible to focus for more than five minutes. All of that was giving you regular headaches now. 

Today marked a week since your mission with Reaper. You wiped at moist eyes after this night’s terror. Sluggishly, you got to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Those always helped to calm you down, to get the adrenalin out of your bloodstream. 

When you were ready and dressed, you made your way to the lab, where Casey was already pipetting on the work table. She was always present when you got in, it was almost like she was sleeping there. First to come, last to leave.

“Morning, Casey. Already at it again, huh?”

She answered without looking away from where she was currently squeezing blue liquid onto a clear gel. “Yep, you know me. Always working.”

You smiled to yourself, Casey was the one constant in your life right now that made you feel an inkling of normalcy. In another life you might have even called her a friend. But here, at Talon, you weren’t naïve enough to believe even for a second that any one of those people thought you to be more than a tool. 

The smile on your face fell flat, and you turned away to get a lab coat from the small locker in the corner. As you opened the narrow metallic door, the fine hairs at the back of your neck stood on end. A rhythmic droning was growing louder, foreboding and practically freezing you to the spot. Your eyes were staring unseeing at the coats when the door to the lab burst open. 

You already knew who had entered the room, even without looking. The thunderous sound had been footsteps, you realized. 

Shaking yourself minutely, you grabbed a coat, shrugged it on and closed the locker door silently. 

Dr. O’Deorain had entered, her usual severe look on her face, followed by no one other than Reaper. 

Your heart dropped. Somehow you had hoped to never see him again, even if it was delusional. He was dressed in his usual getup, right from the white mask on his face to thick black boots on his feet. 

“Good morning,” Casey said cheerfully in greeting as she swiveled around on her stool with a smile, pipette still in hand. You didn’t miss how she took extra care to momentarily pause her work for the doctor.

“Yes, yes. Serum administration in two minutes,” Dr. O’Deorain said dismissively while she walked towards a table in the far corner. Reaper was already sitting down on the examination table, his armour creaking and clanking faintly. 

You still stood with your back to the locker, not realizing that you had pressed yourself against it. Now that Reaper had sat down, he saw you. But he made no sign of acknowledgement aside from a small tilt of his head in recognition. Your heart had started to pound quite frantically. 

Maybe you could excuse yourself, tell the doctor that you were ill or something. But just as you were about to open your mouth to ask, did Dr. O’Deorain address you. 

“Please, come over here.”

Hesitantly, you peeled yourself away from the locker and made your way over to where she was standing over something. It was your amplifying glove that she had given you. 

“Yes, doctor?”

“I would like for you to demonstrate how you use the glove. Testing has been rather _rudimentary_.” She sounded thoughtful, then lifted the object and proffered it to you. “The results from yesterday speak for themselves,” She went on with the faintest hint of a proud smile, “but I want to observe it myself.”

Your eyes darted from the glove to her face. 

“Yeah, about that,” You began, and picked up the item carefully, but did not put it on yet. “It doesn’t seem to work.”

Dr. O’Deorain frowned. 

“Nonsense. You used it, didn’t you?”

“I tried, but it hurt too much, too quickly.”

She looked mildly upset with that frown of hers as she made a thoughtful sound. Finally, she seemed to have come to a conclusion. 

“You will show me, only that way I’ll know what might be wrong with it.” And with those final words she went to the corner and approached a cabinet. Her long fingers deftly entered a code and with a small beep, the door opened for her. Inside was quite a big apparatus that she grabbed and put on like a backpack. There were gloves attached to it as well and she proceeded to put them on. With a final tug at her left hand, she approached Reaper who was still sitting on the table, metal spikes and claws glinting faintly in the overhead lights. 

About one and a half meters away from him she came to a stop, her left hand extended in front and aimed at the man on the table. Then something clicked and you could see an instantaneous connection between Reaper and Dr. O’Deorain. It was a kind of beam, very thin and purple-ish in color. 

Reaper jerked and grunted when the beam connected with him. It was gyrating and twisting maliciously as it moved from him towards the doctor. 

The sound he’d made had you bite down on your cheek, a faint pain blossoming in your mouth, the taste of blood spread and you swallowed subconsciously. You took a small step backwards, eyes glued to the now faintly purple glowing mask of Reaper, whose head snapped in your direction at your movement. It made you stop in your tracks, commanded your attention. As he was staring at you and the doctor used that beam on him, you could hear his clawed hands tightening on the metal of the table. The scratching sound was like nails on chalkboard, goosebumps rose on your arms in discomfort and you hugged yourself.

The urge to get out was making you tremble. 

On the doctor’s back, the apparatus was equipped with a big, clear tube that was slowly starting to fill with purple liquid, or was it mist? You couldn’t tell. The longer she held that beam active, the more of the tube was filled. But it seemed to also have an effect on Reaper. He was starting to bend forward, his arms were slightly shaking where he gripped the table edge hard enough to leave marks, and his breath came in short huffs. He seemed to be in pain.

Your eyes wandered from Reaper’s hunched over form toward that of Dr. O’Deorain’s, who was still standing tall with her arm stretched out and connected with that beam of hers. Her face was gleaming in delight, eyes wide, her mouth split in a grin and in that moment you realized that this woman was just as dangerous as that masked maniac sitting to your right. 

“Yes,” she said softly, almost inaudible over the hum of the beam. What was she doing? With a worried glance you checked for Casey, who was watching the whole ordeal from her seat not too far away, and—was she taking _notes_?

Abruptly, the humming stopped, the purple light vanished and the doctor withdrew her arm with a satisfied smile. She studied her left hand for a second, before her sharp, mismatched eyes met yours. 

“All right, it’s your turn,” She addressed you curtly and nodded toward the amplifying glove. 

“What—” You looked between her and Reaper uncertainly. “What was that?”

She chuckled as she removed her equipment and stowed it away again. 

“This piece of cutting edge technology is my _Biotic Grasp_.” She explained, pride evident in her voice. With a swift motion, she produced a small drone from her pocket and placed it in mid air in front of her, where the little machine started to float and whirr softly. Next to her lay a data pad that she used to command the drone and have it float towards Reaper, little laser beams scanning his vitals. 

You still stood there, a good few meters away from either of them, your hands balled into fists. 

Dr. O’Deorain watched the data pad intently, while she kept explaining. “The beam you just saw is a derivative of the nanite technology, not unlike the one you have. But instead of regenerating someone, it does the opposite: it saps their energy. Their life force.”

Holy shit.

“I never understood why it was the medic’s duty to offer so much of themselves, when all the required energy is around, ripe for the taking. To redistribute as one sees fit. Enemies are always aplenty, especially in combat situations.”

Her monologue had you realize that she herself must have been a combat medic at one point. 

“With this technology, I can equip anybody to do the required work, no training necessary.” A few taps to the pad and the drone hovered around Reaper to his backside, still scanning busily. 

“I even managed to go further than that.” Her eyes flashed, your heartbeat accelerated. “I was able to directly implement this technology into the human body.” She laid aside the data pad and approached Reaper, who was still visibly struggling to even sit straight. Her hand reached out and boldly removed his mask. 

Black mist rose in plumes from the hood, but from where you stood, you couldn’t see anything, his head was turned down and the darkness was hiding his features. 

“It does still have a few... _side effects_ ,” she murmured, then used one finger underneath Reaper’s chin to lift his head enough for you to see his face. 

You held your breath. 

This was the first time when no smoke could conceal him, no darkness; when you were fully conscious and your sight not hindered by anything. The first time had been glances into a dark pond, in the twilight of evening, where the depths of it had been nigh invisible and only the blood red moon had been reflected on its surface. The second time was during midday, the sunrays penetrating the water and illuminating the very ground of the pond, even though it was still murky.

But this time?

This time it was as if the entire pond had been emptied, the unforgiving sun had evaporated all the water, only a few traces of mist remained. And you could see _everything_. 

His eyes were currently closed, a deep frown edged into his brow and a scowl twisted his mouth and revealed pearly white _sharp_ teeth.

The scars were even more prominent now than they had previously been, they were numerous and seemed to be very old. He’d have looked like a normal man—who had gone through some rough shit—hadn’t it been for the greyish tint to his skin that made him look deceased. 

Finally, his eyes opened, slowly blinking upward towards the light. 

Again, your heart dropped. 

The garish lamps overhead cast their light directly into the red orbs of his eyes, making them glow brighter than you’d ever seen before. He blinked once, then their fiery red fell onto Dr. O’Deorain. 

She still had her index finger underneath his chin, tilted his face towards herself, and beckoned for the little drone to approach. The small lasers scanned Reaper’s retinas, he didn’t even blink; he simply stared ahead, seeing right through the doctor.

Now that you could see his face in its entirety, you got the feeling that he looked familiar. But you couldn’t remember how.

The little drone beeped softly, signalling that its scan was complete, and Dr. O’Deorain let go of the man in front of her to once again consult the data pad. 

Slowly, Reaper let his head fall forward again, but not before his eyes found yours. 

It was like staring into the eyes of the devil. Had you been Catholic, you’d have crossed yourself. Even so, the urge to do it made you hug yourself even tighter. 

You couldn’t look away, even though he was obviously weakened by whatever the doctor had done to him, he was still able to hold himself up. Slowly, his mouth opened, even more black mist rising from it, like cigarette smoke. Paired with the look he gave you it was very...suggestive.

You bristled and averted your eyes. 

Casey was still busily writing things down from where she sat a few meters away.

“Go on now,” Dr. O’Deorain reminded you impatiently from the left. 

You couldn’t postpone it any longer, with an internal sigh, you went and put on the doctor’s glove. Casting wary glances at Reaper, you went as far as was necessary, which was still closer than you liked, extended your arm and prepared yourself for the worst. 

Unsure of where to aim—there were no visible wounds or anything—you directed the gentle golden spray at his chest, where it dissipated into nothing on contact. After a few seconds, he was already starting to relax, his grip on the table was loosening, as were his drawn shoulders. The scowl on his face remained though, that was probably permanent...

Just when Reaper released a quiet breath of relief, did you feel the numbness spread out and up your entire arm. This time, the following pain came with a vengeance. 

You tried to suppress the grunt, but it came so quickly and unbidden, that it was impossible. Reaper seemed to be studying you now, no longer looking through you. His red eyes were jumping from your hand, to your forearm, and finally landed on your face. 

As his breathing was becoming calmer and easier, yours was starting to grow heavy. Keeping your arm extended was proving to be too much already, you had to use the other arm for support, wondering when this was done. 

All the while Dr. O’Deorain was standing to your right, rapt with attention at witnessing her creation. 

“I—I can’t. This is too much,” you ground out and already wanted to move away again, but suddenly the doctor pulled you into her and took a firm hold of your arms. 

“You’re not done yet,” she said right next to your ear and a shiver ran through you at the memory of those same words spoken by the very man sitting in front of you.

The sheer surprise of having the doctor reacting in that way and to manhandle you like that, had you in shock. For someone who was usually sitting in a lab, she was surprisingly strong. The grip she was having on you was unforgiving. 

Now you were left to watch as the spray kept coming, your arm was cramping up so badly you wondered if it was ever going to relax again. 

As your eyes were now fixed on your arm, held tightly in Dr. O’Deorain’s grip, you saw your veins standing out in dark contrast to your skin. They were shimmering with a bluish tint. 

“Hng!” you exclaimed. The pain was almost intolerable. “Please, doctor—”

“Just a little more.”

You whimpered, face scrunched up in agony. 

Then you heard Reaper snarl, your eyes shot up to his face, black mist was starting to rise from him again. The look on his face was exuding annoyance. His hand came forward to snatch your arm out of the doctor’s grip; she was just as surprised as you were, because she let go immediately, letting him pull you away from her. 

Even though he was still wearing his gauntlets, he was able to deftly peel off the glove from your numb hand with ease. His claws left white marks where they lightly scratched against your skin, but you barely felt it. 

You just stood there, passively letting him work, watching while you caught your breath. 

When he had finally managed to remove the glove completely, he flung it at Dr. O’Deorain, who caught it with an almost comical expression of surprise.

“Back to the drawing board, doc,” he said drily. 

Watching the many emotions flitting over Dr. O’Deorain’s face was both alarming, but also strangely satisfying. 

With a final huff of indignation, the doctor turned on her heel, glove in hand, and made a beeline for the exit. 

Almost immediately, Casey jumped up from her spot and hurried after the doctor and out of the lab. 

You grimaced. 

A light tug on your hand made you realize that Reaper was still holding it, now examining the many purple veins adorning your skin. 

Now that the glove was off, you could finally see the full damage it had wrought. With a shocked gasp, you reflexively pulled free of the man’s loose hold on you and studied your skin with horror. 

The discoloration wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. Like ugly bruises they were criss-crossing all over your skin. Were these going to be permanent, would they be there until the end of your life?

Tears threatened to spill from your burning eyes. This was a nightmare...it couldn’t be true. Your arm looked like it was dying, like it could fall off any minute now. 

Feeling faint, you backed up until you hit the workbench behind you, felt blindly for a stool and slowly sank down onto it. But even though your world was crashing down around you, no tears were coming. 

“This is all your fault,” you accused Reaper. Instead of breaking down in tears, your body decided it was feeling aggressive instead, and even though you were mostly angry at the doctor right now, the only one whom you could antagonize was Reaper. And you had enough reason to be mad at him, too. 

There was no reaction from where he still sat on the examination table. Why was he still here, anyway?

“If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be with my friends right now, drinking coffee and doing fun shit or something.” Well, it was partially true. There wasn’t always a lot of time for people in Overwatch to actually do anything besides training, paper work, or going on missions. But there had been the occasional meetup over coffee and a nice piece of strawberry cake. 

“If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be dead,” Reaper finally answered in his gravelly voice, then got off the table to land on the floor with a loud thud from his steel boots. 

Your head whipped around to glare at him. 

“Better off dead than being a pawn for terrorists and murderers!”

The man crossed his arms in front of himself, the scowl on his face deepening. “You think working for Overwatch is morally superior?”

“Obviously.”

He tsked. 

“Overwatch is a joke. Always has been.”

“Right, I bet you know all about it,” you said sarcastically, idly rubbing your right arm back to life. 

“I do.”

All right, you would bite. 

“How?”

“I was there.” He reached for his abandoned mask that lay on the workbench beside you, heavy footsteps making you tense as he approached. 

“Before it was disbanded, Overwatch was a giant façade for some of the richest people in the world to play war.” Mask in hand, he looked at it pensively. “We all were pawns for them, given the illusion of being in command. We _were_ , sort of. I commanded my team in the shadows, we were the ones who didn’t even have to play by Overwatch’s official rules.”

Slowly, you realized he was talking about Blackwatch and goosebumps rose on your skin. It couldn’t be. Maybe that’s why he seemed so familiar.

Finally, he looked at you, but his eyes were far away, in the past. 

“The ones up top, those we never got to meet, they were pulling the strings. And we were the expendable private militia they could send to their enemies in their stead.” 

He turned to you. “Nothing we were told to do was ever for _the greater good_ ,” he finished, the light in his red eyes burning.

“Even if all of this were true, why not fight it from the inside then? Instead, you decided to go full maniac and became an _official_ bad guy?” You were treading on thin ice, but he must have been lying to you. Never before had you heard any of these accusations, they sounded baseless and frankly, ludicrous. 

You were familiar with Overwatch history, at least the official stories they’d taught you at the beginning at orientation. Had they omitted these details?

The ghost of a smile flitted across his features. “I decided to fight fire with fire.” Then he leaned against the tabletop with his claws resting against its surface, aligning himself to you two side by side with just a few meters in between. 

You snorted. 

“Is this why you run around dressed like that?” You pointed at his getup, it felt good to poke fun at him like this. But you were also wary about how far you could to push him. 

But even as you spoke that last sentence, Reaper suddenly narrowed his eyes at you. It wasn’t in anger, though, but rather in intrigue. He was staring openly at your neck. Self-consciously, you let go of your right arm to reach up to the spot instead. 

It was the same one that Ogundimu had inspected after your mission. This particular memory, how he had brushed away your hair, it opened the floodgates to all the other things that had happened on that night. 

You were shocked that he was still able to see it. When you’d tried to catch a glimpse of it in a mirror, it was almost impossible because of its position so far back. And the mission had been like a week ago, the mark—whatever it was—should have faded by now. 

“I’ve gotta go,” you blurted and abruptly stood from the stool, almost toppling it over in your haste. 

You didn’t get very far, your wrist was gripped tightly by a hard, cold steel gauntlet stopping you from leaving. In a state of shock and disbelief you saw your badly discolored arm in his claws around it, and like a wild animal caught in a snare, your body went into fight or flight mode.

With jerking movements, you pulled hard to get free, you threw your entire weight away from where he held you and even kicked at him. 

“Stop that,” he grunted, but only sounded mildly disgruntled, and somehow that made you calm down enough to stop your struggling. 

“Let me go,” you demanded, emphasizing your point with a tug. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he studied your damaged hand. 

“I must know…” he said ominously and removed one gauntlet with his teeth. It clattered on the tabletop noisily, making you jump. The skin of his hand was darker than that of his face, you noticed, as he used the pads of three fingers to lightly touch your bluish forearm. 

“W—what are you doing?” You demanded to know, trying to pull away again. 

He hummed darkly in thought, tracing small patterns on your skin. The motion sent shivers up your arm and through your entire body. Your eyes anxiously darted between where he was currently touching you and his face. The sensation was disconcerting, but also—you were hesitant to admit—kind of pleasant. A faint blush spread on your cheeks. 

All of a sudden, he used the grip he had on your wrist to pull you a little closer and took a hold of your other hand as well. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed, and once again tried to break free. And once again, failed. 

With all the time in the world, and the strength of a fucking _machine_ , he raised your good arm and laid your hand against the side of his neck, then held it in place. 

Now _you_ were...touching him, you felt so repelled by the mere thought of it, that your face twisted in abhorrence.

“Heal me,” he commanded in a low voice. 

The _audacity_. Anger rose up inside you. 

“Fuck you!” You uttered with vigor and stubbornly held still without doing a thing for him. What would he need healing for, anyway; you’d just healed him mere minutes ago. He was insatiable!

He growled. 

“Do it.”

You pushed your luck. 

“No.”

The two of you stared at each other in varying degrees of frustration. 

What were you _doing_? Reaper could easily tear you apart if he so desired, why were you defying him like that? A small voice answered how the last time you healed him through direct touch it resulted in things that still caused you nightmares to this day.

With a snarl, the man pulled you into him and to the side, to push you on top of the examination table. He followed closely, to pin both your wrists to the tabletop, right next to your head. You lay there awkwardly, while your upper body was on the table, your feet still touched the ground lightly, and Reaper now stood over you, holding you down. He was right in your face, too. 

“Do you have a death wish, _girl_?” He was furious, the glowing red orbs of his eyes were burning brightly, dark mist was rising off of him in waves. You guessed he wasn’t used to people not following his orders. All you could do was stare, your head was still spinning from where it had hit the steel table. It hurt like a bitch. Your spine too, how it was bent so uncomfortably. 

When you didn’t answer fast enough, his eyes narrowed, his gaze flitted over your face. Finally, he shifted, moved in between your legs so they fell open and around his thighs. 

Your blush deepened and your heart stuttered. 

“Or is it something else you wish for,” he murmured, eyes falling to your lips. 

Oh god, _no_. 

You blinked through the headache and weakly started to struggle again. Of course, you couldn’t even move him a millimeter. 

“Nng—don’t…” you gasped, averting your eyes to the side when you couldn’t dislodge him. 

Surprisingly, he let go of your wrists, instead his fingers tilted your head towards him. You would never get used to these eyes, you thought, as you were forced to look into them once more. 

“Heal me,” he repeated himself, a solemn expression on his ashen face. 

You shivered, silently pleading for him to just stop. But the determination in his eyes told you that he was ready to go as far as he needed in order to get what he wanted. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

Arm shaking, you slowly reached for his face. That was the only place where you could touch his skin, and as you did so you had to push down the fear of the consequences. He was watching your hand as it moved, the last centimeter was the hardest part. You were hoping he might help by closing the distance, but he stayed in place. Then you finally touched him, your fingers twitching. 

Concentrating on your breathing, which was way too fast, you sent out a gentle wave of healing. It took only a second before Reaper closed his eyes and exhaled in satisfaction. 

His breath faintly brushed against your face, he was that close.

You kept the healing stream low on purpose, you’d already given it your all to heal him with Dr. O’Deorain’s glove. No need to go all in this time.

To an outsider this must have looked like a scene between two lovers; the way he was bent over you and you practically cradling his face while he obviously enjoyed what you were doing… good thing there was nobody else present. 

His eyes were still closed as you felt his fingers loosen their hold on your chin to gently brush down the front of your neck. 

“W—wait,” you stammered and momentarily broke the contact on his face. As you had feared the direct healing was having the same effect on him as the last time. 

The second your palm left his cheek, his eyes flew open and his still gloved hand shot up to press it back into place. “More,” he growled in that eerie, dark voice. 

If you kept going like this you would collapse again, it was simply too much. That damn glove did something to your nanites that seemed to make them work in overdrive and use all your resources at once. At least that’s what it felt like. 

“I think that’s enough,” you said meekly and simply stopped the healing output, glassy eyes staring at Reaper, probably not without an air of a challenge in them. 

When he felt the healing stop altogether, Reaper scowled. “I say when it’s enough.”

“No!” You’ve had it up to here with him. “No, you don’t! _I_ get to say when it’s done. And I say _it is done_ ,” you yelled and snatched your hand out of his to cradle against your chest. “I’m not your personal health pack!” Just _damn_ this man to hell. 

At your blatant display of insubordination, he went through multiple stages of disbelief and anger, followed by one of his growls. 

In the blink of an eye he had grabbed you under the thighs and pushed you completely on top of the table, crawled over you, put a knee between your legs and pressed against your core roughly with how he held himself on top. 

When you wanted to protest against him manhandling you like that, he simply brought his hand that was still in the gauntlet, up and around your throat, effectively cutting off any of your words. The only thing that left your mouth were short gasps now. 

He bared his teeth at you, his fiery red orbs almost burning a hole through your skull. 

You whimpered. 

“I am—” he began loudly, then stopped to think over his words. “I haven’t felt... anything like this in…” he drifted off, eyes darting between different spots on your face. You wondered what he saw there, what he was trying to tell you all of a sudden. Not that you were the least bit interested to know the inner machinations of this utter lunatic. Maybe when this was all over you’d write a book about it, you would call it ‘My Life With The Murderer’. 

Only that when this was going to be over, you’d likely be dead. 

“Why do you do it?” The question startled you, what did he even mean? You’d done as he’d asked, you’d healed him. Simple as that. 

Your frown deepening, you mouthed your answer and that’s when he must have realized that his heavy hand on your windpipe was hindering your speech. He loosened it just a fraction and you breathed in as deeply as it allowed you to. 

“I don’t know what—”, you coughed, “what you mean.”

“No. You know,” he ground out and leaned forward a fraction. “Why, _mariquita_? Is it to weaken me, to catch me off guard?” He hummed, his voice had taken on a velvety smoothness to its coarse undertones and it made your shiver. “Someone set you up to do this.” Again, he searched your face while his eyes squinted. “Was it Akande, Maximilien?”

The way he seemed to be convinced that somebody had ordered you to, what, _seduce_ him made you exhale in a short hysterical laugh. What utter nonsense. 

But your laughing made him tighten the grip on your neck again, he didn’t seem to find this the least bit funny. 

“If that is what you tried to achieve, then I’ll give them what they want.” And with those words he closed the distance to press his mouth against yours. 

With wide eyes you stared into his, panic rising in your chest. The sheer malice on his face was not a good sign for what was about to come. Then you remembered that your hands were currently free and you pushed at him with all your might. But he just gripped your throat harder, the pressure inside your head was painful, and the lack of air had you open your mouth to gasp. 

Reaper used that opening to lick inside and over your tongue. The smell and taste of him were assaulting your senses just like the constant pressure against your neck and groin. Failing to push him off, your hands flew to his wrist where he was cutting your airflow off instead. 

Your eyes were burning, tears were gathering at the corners and a single one traced down the side of your face to disappear into your hairline. This was it, just a few more seconds and you’d suffocate. Black spots were dancing at the edges of your vision, your muscles spasmed with the lack of oxygen in your blood, and you whimpered. 

When he pulled away it was like coming up from deep water, as if you broke its surface and could finally breathe again. Everything hurt, but especially your chest and your head. You moaned in pain in between deep breaths. The cold from the metallic examination table was seeping into your bones and had them ache as well. 

It took you a little while to get your breathing under control again, your numb fingers had slipped off his gauntlet and fallen limply to the side, but he still had a secure hold on you. Finally, you managed to look him in the eyes again. 

You were at his mercy once more, your life was literally in his hands. Already his grip threatened to tighten again. 

When you tried to speak, it only came out as a whisper. “Please,” you swallowed and another tear ran down your face. “No more.”

You couldn’t do this again, the choking was a horror you hadn’t ever experienced before and it had you on edge so much you thought you might have a heart attack. 

The malice that had previously distorted his face had ebbed down a bit, he seemed to be more pensive right now with how he was watching your face and let his gaze wander over your heaving chest. Finally, his gauntlet left your neck to brush down your front, claws scratching you unpleasantly and sending shivers down your spine. 

Wordlessly, he moved his hand over your chest where your lab coat had fallen open and lightly squeezed your breast through your thin shirt, his talons dangerously close to piercing your skin. 

You held your breath in fear, there was nothing you could do to deter him if he wanted to do... _that_ to you, and the realization had you sniffling pathetically as you turned your head to the side. 

Meanwhile his gauntlet moved further down your belly to push under the hem of your shirt. The cold, pointy ends of his claws made you shiver violently as they moved to where your bra was, bunching up your top in the process. The razor sharp tips of his talons made short work of your bra, it snapped in half right in the middle, and you flinched at the feeling of the elastic going slack. 

You hid your face in the crook of your shoulder when he bared you to his gaze, light tremors running through your entire body. 

For a while, nothing happened. He cruelly left you anticipating his next move. 

Then, gradually, you felt him shift above you, his fingertips lightly brushed between your breasts and circled around your left nipple, pebbling it in the process. It tickled, made you squirm. When he rolled it between two fingers, you tensed and tried to turn away and to the side, but bumped into his arm that he currently used to prop himself above you. 

“Don’t be shy now, _mariquita_ ,” he murmured, suddenly very close to your ear, you could feel his breath on your skin. “We’re just getting started. This is what you’ve been sent to do.”

Oh god, you’d never recover from this. This was the most nightmarish, fucked up excuse for foreplay you could imagine. 

He kept breathing in your ear, nipping at the lobe and lightly kissing your neck while his hand kept playing with your nipple. 

Soon, the blush was returning to your cheeks. As fucked up as it was, it was still foreplay, and your body reacted to the stimuli it was given, regardless of its source. 

“I—I wasn’t sent by...by anyone!” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he growled, but kept his ministrations gentle. It was messing with your head. Your anxiety level was through the roof. 

“I’m not…” you sobbed, trailing off. This was not helping at all, it was no use. He wouldn’t believe you. 

“I know it was me who found you,” Reaper started, “but it was Akande who teamed us up. I had wondered what his intentions had been.” He kept fondling your breasts, and even though you were terrified, your body was starting to get aroused with it. Tingles went down between your legs, made you want to press them together, but Reaper’s armored knee was still nestled against you intimately. 

He hummed in thought. “I will find out why you...” he nosed into your neck, “ _affect_ me so. A little indulgence in the meantime won’t hurt.”

Won’t hurt _you_ , you thought bitterly. 

Reaper’s knee ground against you, so hard that it pushed you up the table with it. The shock of it had you tilt your head back towards him, ready to protest again. 

But he simply kissed away any words that had been on your tongue. He was rougher now than before, his mouth forcing yours to open wide and he invaded it boldly with his tongue. It was an all consuming kind of kiss, one that would have you swooning had you not been lying down already. Still, it made your head swim and your legs shake where they tried to squeeze together around Reaper’s thick thigh. He groaned at the feeling of you squirming around him, his bare hand moving from your breast to the fly of your jeans to pop open the button. 

His mouth was still slotted against yours, stealing your breath away in a passionate dance. 

You were hesitant to admit it, but it was a really good kiss, with the right partner you’d have loved it, given yourself to him without a second thought. Alas, this was Reaper, and the terror you felt at the thought of being raped by him was all consuming. 

But suddenly you felt him tugging at your pants, pulling them over your hips, and another wave of sheer panic momentarily gave your head some clarity. 

“No,” you pulled away from the kiss, cast fearful eyes down your body and tried to slap his hands away from where they were currently tracing along the top of your panties. 

With ease, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them both above your head in his gauntlet. 

“Don’t,” your voice broke on the last syllable, “please.” Tears were finally streaming down your face, you couldn’t keep it together any longer. 

He paused, cocked his head. 

“Poor girl,” he cooed and brushed some of the tears away with his thumb. “You are but an instrument, to be used by one and then by another. This is your place now.” He kissed your brow and drew back again, unphased by your revulsion. “This is what Akande wanted, so it is what he’ll get.” His voice turned cold. “Send him my regards.” 

Apparently he was really under the impression that Ogundimu had instructed you to do this, the mere thought that maybe that was true, that Ogundimu thought of you as someone to whore out to teammates acting up made you sick to your stomach. What was the purpose of that, though? Distraction, dependency? 

Reward?

Your musings were interrupted when Reaper resumed what he’d been doing previously, his bare hand moved down to your jeans and pushed them down, along with your panties, until they bunched around your knees. 

To get them further down though, he had to momentarily get off of you, and it was in that moment that you saw your chance to get out. His hold on your wrists was easily broken when he was so focused on your bottom half. One hard tug and your hands were free, twisting to the side you managed to dodge his renewed attempt at catching you and your legs could slide out beneath him on the smooth metal of the examination table. The fall to the floor was painful, but the adrenalin in your system helped to ignore it as you collected your limbs underneath you and got up to your feet. A quick tug on your pants and you had them up around your hips again, the way to the door beckoning you. 

Four long strides and the door almost in reach, but there was a black mass swirling in front of you now. It was Reaper’s black mist, you recognized from where you had stopped in your tracks, too shocked to look away. The mist was swirling, folding in on itself and finally taking on human shape. 

This was straight out of a horror novel and you yelped in surprise. 

The first part of him that was truly identifiable as human were his eyes, burning through the mist in their demonic color. The rest of his face followed suit, then his body materialized, already reaching out for you. 

Too late you stumbled backwards. 

In the blink of an eye you were whirled around and pressed against the doors that you had so desperately tried to reach a moment ago. 

Reaper was holding you by the arms, a manic glint in his eye. 

“You think you can run from me?” He sounded amused and it was almost convincing, hadn’t it been for the way his hands held you in a vice like grip, painfully tight.

That had been your very last chance of escape. 

His rhetorical question hung above you heavily. No, you didn’t actually think that, it had been a knee jerk reaction of your body to flee. 

“I’m—” His gauntlet on your mouth stopped you mid-sentence. He had pushed even closer to be able to release one of your arms and shush you like this. You cast wary eyes his way and saw that he was looking off to the side.

It seemed like he was listening for something. 

Then you heard it: footsteps were fast approaching from the outside. Your eyes went wide. Who was coming to the lab? Were they going to try and come inside? Maybe you could cry for help…

Any hope that dared to blossom in your heart was crushed by the realization that nobody in this building was likely to help you at all, especially with Reaper. You were convinced that most people were afraid of him, yourself included. Hell, you were the president of club _Reaper Is Scary_. 

With his finger against his lips Reaper signaled for you to be silent, not that you could have made a sound anyway. The sound grew ever louder and finally they came to a stop on the other side of the door. 

You strained your ears for any clues on who it might be, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. 

Then, a knock. 

It almost made your heart stop right then and there. Wide eyed you stared at the man in front of you, not daring to make a sound. You were acutely aware of how Reaper was pressed to you, all hard edges and cold metal. 

Casey called your name from outside. “Hey, are you there?” Her voice sounded muffled through the thick walls. “I forgot my keycard when I left. Can you let me in?”

What would Casey say if she saw you like this, half naked with bruised lips by rough kisses from no one else but _Reaper_. Would she be disgusted, or would she understand that this was not what it seemed? Really, you didn’t want to find out. 

It felt like an eternity until Casey called your name and knocked one last time, followed by a silent curse and mention of finding Dr. O’Deorain to let her in, that told you she was going to leave and come back at a later time. Her footsteps disappeared down the hall. 

You had closed your eyes in fear and only now cracked them open to tentatively watch what Reaper was doing. His face had softened somewhat, the fire in his eyes muted just a little. He was watching you intently, removed his hand from your mouth and took a step away from you.

Your knees buckled where you stood half leaning against the door with wild eyes, your hands fiercely clasping your lab coat to shield from view...and maybe more. 

“This is not over, _mariquita_ ,” he promised darkly, then did his disappearing act again and vanished in a cloud of black mist right in front of you. 

It took you a minute to breathe easy again. The darkness had lifted off of you for now, his presence was no longer looming above and you sobbed in relief. Your hands covered your face as tears were flowing freely again. 

Your mind was blank, too many emotions were warring within you to make anything coherent of them. What you knew for certain was that you had to get out of this building and as far away as possible. 

But what about Caleb?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to split this chapter into two. I hope you enjoy and I'd like to thank everyone who is commenting and leaving kudos. You guys are the best and I love you!
> 
> Find me on tumblr: danjo-ao3

You were running. Bleak walls and grey floors were whirring past you as you hurried along corridors, past multiple doors, not stopping to even take a breath. Get away, away...far away. As far as possible. Barely aware of your ragged breathing, you almost tripped over your own feet, but managed to steady yourself on a wall. 

One breath, two, then the irrational fear of being followed spurred you into action again. With shaking legs you finally reached the elevator that would get you away from the lab’s floor. 

After all your time with Talon you had finally learned that the elevators were activated by your presence. To call one, you had to stand in a designated spot in front of it, which you were doing right now. It was incredibly hard to stay still, you kept looking over your shoulder, paranoid that a certain someone was behind. 

“Come on,” you mumbled as you anticipated the sound of the elevator’s arrival. 

It felt like an eternity until you finally heard it, then with one last look behind you hurried inside to immediately announce your desired floor. As the doors closed, you allowed yourself to lean against the shiny walls, aggressively ignoring the mirror on the opposite side. Instead you forced your eyes closed for a second, to try and steady your breathing. 

In, out. In and out.

It wasn’t helping, your eyes shot open to observe the display up ahead that told you that you were on the first floor right now. 

_ Move faster, damnit _ . 

Suddenly, the elevator slowed. Confused, you checked the floor again and noticed that you were on floor two, there were still two more until you would reach yours. 

The elevator was stopping, the confirmation sound rang loudly in your ears, and finally the doors slid open to reveal a dark and broad figure in front. 

Your breath caught. 

Revealed to you was— Akande Ogundimu. Your short exhale of relief of it not being a certain masked mercenary was short lived, though. This was bad, like  _ really bad.  _

Ogundimu’s expression spoke of surprise. Your disheveled state was something he normally didn’t see around here, you figured. He stepped inside, his gaze focusing on your face. 

He greeted you by your last name curtly, which you only answered with a jerk of your head that was supposed to resemble a nod. 

All you wanted was to vanish in this moment. As you warily watched him take position a few meters away, you involuntarily caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

Wide, haunted eyes stared back at you, your hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. Your hand still had a death grip on the front of the lab coat, which barely concealed your still open jeans underneath. But the most obvious thing about your appearance were the red marks all over your neck. 

Oh  _ goodness _ ...

Silently, the doors slid closed and the elevator started moving upwards again. 

“Passcode 5-5-4,” Ogundimu spoke all of a sudden and the elevator stopped at his command. 

You stared at him incredulously. What was he doing? 

With his hands behind his back, the man turned to you, a severe look on his face. Today he was wearing all black, and it did nothing to make you feel safe. You were starting to hate that color. 

Still clutching your coat, you squinted up at him, further leaning against the wall behind you. 

“Are you hurt?”

It took you a good five seconds to digest that. Akande Ogundimu,  _ Doomfist _ , leader of the infamous terrorist organization Talon, was interested in your well being?

Not likely. 

There must have been something else behind his caring façade. It would’ve been unwise to trust him. Nervously, you swallowed around an incredibly dry throat. 

“No,” you lied. Well, not much. 

Unbidden, thoughts welled up about what would happen if you told him the truth. Would he pretend to care, to tell you to confide in him, that he’d help you?

Reaper’s words flitted through your mind. About how he’d assumed that you were specifically sent to seduce him. By Ogundimu himself, no less. You wondered if his assumptions were correct.

Ogundimu was still studying you, his gaze roamed over your entire front; from your face down to your shoes, his eyes narrowing the more he took in of you in your current state. 

Then, he came on towards you with slow steps, as if he were approaching a stray cat so as to not scare it off. Still, you tensed up, his closeness was unwelcome. Especially right now. 

“I must say,” he murmured, as he approached, “You are doing well in Talon. Your work ethic is commendable.” He flashed a pleasant smile. “Not many show that much dedication to our cause in their positions. And Talon would like to thank you for being so caring and  _ giving _ .”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was he complimenting your work in the lab, on missions? The words he was using all screamed of something else, something a man of his status wouldn’t deign to utter. 

“I’ll have a special bank account set up for you, anything you desire,” he went on in a business-like tone. Only when he reached down and pulled lightly on the bottom of your shirt with a flick of his wrist to finally hide your still openen jeans, did it betray the true meaning behind his words. “That’s only fair, isn’t it.”

Mortified, you stared back at him. He had already moved away from you again, satisfaction written all over his face. He had finally achieved what he had instrumented. Reaper was right, Akande Ogundimu was now… your panderer. And he definitely thought that you and Reaper had already—

You felt your stomach drop, it was as if the floor gave out beneath you. If only it would swallow you whole.

The sheer hopelessness, the grief you’d felt this whole time, and the anxiety of what was going to happen all rendered you mute. That didn’t seem to bother the man at all, he checked his reflection in the mirror, adjusted his expensive looking jacket, then spoke up to the ceiling. 

“Passcode 5-5-3.” The elevator started moving again, and just a few seconds later you had reached your destination. Ogundimu inclined his head in goodbye and stepped in front of the doors, which opened for him and revealed someone waiting for him on the other side. An omnic, dressed sharply in a dark grey suit stood just a few meters away, his shiny robotic face equipped with slanted, red eyes and dots neatly arranged on his forehead. 

The omnic’s attention snapped from Ogundimu to you. And even though his face could not betray any kind of emotion, you got the distinct feeling that he was silently judging you. For what, you weren’t sure. 

_ Maybe for the way you look like you’d just had sex in an elevator? _

You groaned internally. Could this day get any worse? Who in this forsaken building hadn’t witnessed your shame yet? 

Ogundimu greeted the omnic and then turned around to you one last time. “Mr. Hawthorne will be delighted to hear about your continued cooperation.”

Hearing Caleb’s last name spoken so casually sent a new wave of trepidation over you. How was he doing, were they treating him right? You finally found your voice and called out to get answers, but the elevator doors were already closing shut again, preventing Ogundimu and his companion from further engaging with you. 

Close to tears, you just stared at the doors. Sniffing, you stated your floor number again and the elevator moved up. 

Finally, you reached your destination and impatiently waited for the doors to slide open. The long hallway led you straight to the dorm rooms and with a newfound haste, you jogged towards yours, fumbled for the key and got inside to slam the door shut and lock it behind you. 

After a very small pause, you hurried out of your clothes so fast, you almost fell on your way to the bathroom. You needed a hot shower now. Lab coat, shirt and jeans all landed in a different corner, your panties too. Trying not to think about it, you shrugged off the ruined bra, and dumped it straight into the trash bin. 

Whole body shaking like a leaf, cold and anxious, you went and turned on the shower. The water turned warm pretty quickly and you stepped underneath with your eyes closed. 

The water grew hotter by the second, now it was almost unbearable, but you kept standing beneath it. After a few minutes you reached for the standard issue shower gel and squirted a generous amount into your palm. Its purple discoloration was making you feel sick to your stomach, it faintly hurt when you flexed your fingers. But you were almost certain that it had started to change in color to more of a bluish tint.

You heaved a sigh, just another thing on your long list of terrors.

Everything you did was mechanical, your actions on autopilot, while you were internally struggling with how your mind wanted to process what had happened to you while fiercely trying to ignore Reaper’s last words.

_ This is not over, mariquita.  _

Scrunching your eyes closed, you scrubbed at your chest, trying to erase his touch from your skin. The fine cuts on your neck stung from the gel, but you kept at it nonetheless.

The hot water washed all the soap away and you watched the bubbles disappear down the drain. If only you could disappear like that, you thought, and reached for shampoo. 

It took you a long while to get out of the shower, the hot water was soothing and calming you down somewhat. But you couldn’t stay in there forever. So with a long suffering sigh you turned the water off and dried yourself. You were grateful that the bathroom mirror was fogged up enough so you didn’t have to look yourself in the eye. 

Before you left to get dressed you decided to brush your teeth, get the bitter taste out of your mouth. When you spat out the toothpaste there was blood mixed in with the foam, curling red in stark contrast in a spiral to be washed away by the water. You’d brushed too hard. 

When you got dressed it was in simple clothes; cotton panties, a comfy zip-up hoodie and soft training pants. In that ensemble you curled up in the armchair across your holo screen and watched something on low volume that you didn’t even pay attention to. 

Your mind was racing while your body was finally weaning off the adrenaline it had been subjected to. The quiet voices on the show you were watching were soothing your frayed mind. It was a nice distraction. As long as you did not actively think about it all, you could stay relatively calm. 

It was still light outside, barely afternoon, but there was no way you would go out again today. 

As you drew your knees to your chest and snuggled into your hoodie, your eyes started to feel heavy, they burned and closing them for just a little while was nice. You were so tired… it had been a rough day, you deserved some rest. But all your reasoning did not ease the anxiety that was still simmering underneath it all. It spiked periodically, telling you to stay alert, but you were too tired of the feeling, just so  _ tired. _

The last thing that flitted through your head was the word  _ mariquita.  _

What could it mean?

_ Mariquita... _

* * *

_ Mariquita _

When you woke it was dark outside, the only light source was the holo projector on the wall. You rubbed one eye and yawned, maybe you should head to bed. 

“ _Mariquita._ ”

Ice shards pierced your heart, your breath halted as your head snapped to where you’d heard his voice from. 

He sat on your bed casually, as if he belonged there, his red eyes faintly glowing in the semi dark. 

No. No, no, no, no,  _ no! _

This was a nightmare, you were still asleep and dreaming, right?  _ Please, just let this be a nightmare. _

“How did you get in here?” You demanded, voice small from disuse. Even as you asked him you knew the answer, he had used his mist voodoo like before when he had vanished in front of your eyes. 

“I have my ways,” he said quietly in his raspy voice, not moving from the edge of your bed, watching you. The dull light from the holo projector sporadically illuminated his face, revealing that he wasn’t wearing his mask, nor his armored coat. 

“Get out,” you blurted, sitting a little more upright in the armchair, trying to hide the way your body was already shaking again. But of course he didn’t do as you told him, he stayed right in his spot.

“Come here,” he said instead, and it reminded you of the time he said these words during the mission, right before you’d healed him and—

You shook your head.

All you wanted was to laugh at him, scoff how there was no way in hell you were going to go to him of your own free will.

In the end you just glared, telling him nonverbally that that was not going to happen. The outrage you felt almost outshone the fear that still had a tight grip on you. 

He cocked his head, as if he were still wearing his mask.

His stare was making you extremely nervous, so in order to escape this uncomfortable situation you snapped at him.

“If you’re not going, then I am,” you stated and unfolded your legs to get off the armchair and straight to your door. 

“You know I’ll find you.”

His words gave you pause. Yeah, you figured. The way he had simply ghosted into your locked room was an indicator. With your hand on the handle, you trembled with the urge to get out, but also knowing that there was nowhere for you to escape. He would always find you, you absolutely trusted his statement. 

“Well, I’ll take my chances,” you said to him over your shoulder. 

“I can also find your friend in the holding cells.”

Your grip on the handle tightened before it went slack. 

Caleb. It all boiled down to him, didn’t it? Defeated, you pressed your forehead against the door, wanting to hit your head against it until you blacked out. 

Slowly, you turned around to face him. “You— you’re a monster.” It felt good to say it out loud, to tell him your piece of mind, even if he didn’t care. 

“Aw, you’re hurting my feelings,  _ mariquita _ ,” he sighed. “Now come. Here.”

Your legs felt like jelly. Unsure if you could even make your way over if you wanted to, you took a deep breath to center yourself. Maybe you could stall for time a little more?

“What does it mean?” You asked out of the blue. Reaper was tensing where he sat on your bed, impatience mirrored on his face. 

“What?”

“ _ Mariquita. _ ” You tried your hardest to pronounce it correctly, the way he always did.

“It means you should come over here now, or I’ll come and get you.”

Okay, he was done waiting. Tentatively, you took a step forward, testing your legs’ stability. They were working fine, it was just the man you were supposed to approach that had you hesitate after every step. It didn’t make it easier that he was still watching your every move. Color rose to your cheeks by being so openly observed, while you were struggling no less. 

When you were about a meter away from him, you came to a halt. Uncomfortable, you hugged yourself with one arm, your gaze avoiding him. You could feel his demonic eyes on you, your skin tingling unpleasantly where you assumed he was watching.

When something touched the back of your hand, you jumped. He lightly gripped your wrist while the fingers of his other hand pushed the material of your sleeve up over your arm, the one that had suffered the damage from healing him. You watched as he traced upwards, goosebumps spreading in the wake of his touch. 

Again, he seemed very interested in what Dr. O’Deorain’s glove had done to you. 

From where he sat on the bed, you were almost at eye level with him, he was that tall even sitting. And as he intently watched his own actions you got your first glance at him without a hood covering his head. He had dark hair, streaked with grey at the shaven sides. It was gathering on the top and fell to one side lazily in a swirl of curls, one of the locks almost reached his eyebrows. 

Without that heavy coat his entire shape was different, his shoulders weren’t as extremely accentuated anymore, but they were still broad, fewer sharp angles and more rounded bulk. He was still wearing the armored chest plate, pants and boots, but not his clawed gauntlets. And thank goodness for that, you could still feel those talons against your throat.

When his eyes found yours again, he pulled you towards him, you took the last few steps hesitantly, leaning away as much as his hold on you allowed. Which wasn’t much at all, you were standing in between his spread legs. Any closer and you’d be in his lap. 

“You want to know what  _ mariquita _ means,” he murmured, his hand that was not still holding your wrist, went for the zipper of your hoodie. 

This had been the worst time to not wear a bra.

You tried to pull away, but he held firm. His scowl told you to stop struggling, and you did so reluctantly, trembling. Your eyes flitted to where he was slowly pulling down the zipper, your shallow breathing making your chest rise and fall quickly.

Well, he certainly wasn’t wasting any time.

You swallowed audibly, a faint whimper climbing up your throat. 

But he stopped pulling just a little ways down, his surprisingly warm hand instead touching the skin just beneath your throat. He went further to the side, revealing more of you to him. The hoodie was now hanging off your right shoulder but was still hiding your chest.

He paused, studying you, then stroked a path just below your collarbone, right where the scar was from where you’d been impaled on that steel beam. You shivered.

“It means ladybug,” he finally clarified, his red eyes lifting to your face. Frowning, you wondered why he’d chosen that moniker. “When I found you, the way that metal was sticking out of your shoulder, it looked like a giant needle pinning down a little bug in one of those showcases.” Reaper’s voice was rather quiet, but still sounding rough. “All that blood,” he faintly smiled as he remembered. “Just the color of a ladybug.” 

Of course he would remember this fondly, your pain seemed to bring him immense pleasure. Your resulting scowl only seemed to amuse him.

“Ah, well—” You faltered shortly when he brushed along your throat. “Thanks for telling me, I will be going then.” 

He chuckled at that, mirth dancing across his features. 

“Don’t think so,” he murmured and reached behind you to pull you into him. You fell forward clumsily, barely able to catch yourself against his chest. Your knees came to a rest on either side of his thighs, just like that time during the mission. This new position had your heart beat frantically in your ribcage, and your eyes searched his to gauge his intentions.

_ What do you  _ think _ he wants to do? _ A voice inside your head chided.

The two of you were so close now, you could feel his breath on your face, his expression turned serious again.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he whispered, and goodness you wanted to believe him so badly. Eyes burning, you scrunched them close.

Why was he saying this? Why was he pretending that this was anything but his one sided obsession with your healing effect? It hurt that he thought you were so gullible, like you were some naïve little girl unfamiliar with men like him, when you were old enough to have had your fair share of toxic relationships. 

“I find that hard to believe,” you answered. Apparently, Reaper had forgotten the times when he had hurt you in the past, on purpose or not. Maybe he was too far gone to recognize the consequences of his actions, that assaulting someone like he had was a violent act that was very traumatizing. 

“Then let me show you,” he said. 

With those final words, he cradled your face in his hands to guide your mouths together. Your breath caught once more. This was so different from the last time he did it. It was such a gentle brushing of his lips against yours, feather light and tingly. He pulled away just a fraction, licking his lips and went back in, one hand gliding into your hair.

The worst thing about this was that it felt so nice. After all the anxiety and fear that had beaten you down, it was his cautious touch that was soothing you. You wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. At this point you weren’t sure if you had preferred him to not be so fucking fake considerate. It was messing with your head too much. 

With a forceful push against his chest you drew away, panting lightly. 

“You’re… you’re not supposed to,” You hiccuped. “to be so gentle. You’re not, you’re  _ pretending _ .”

Tears had gathered at the corners of your eyes, it was all so unfair. Why was this happening to you? And why were you even complaining about that, as if the fact that he was doing this to you in the first place wasn’t terrible enough. Sometimes you wished your mouth wasn’t faster than your brain in moments like these. 

Reaper hummed in thought. “Do you want me to be rough with you,  _ hermosa? _ ” He squeezed your waist in emphasis, then let his hands glide over your bottom, pulling you into him further. You gasped when his groin was pushed against yours. “That can be arranged,” he flashed his teeth in a feral grin, then proceeded to kiss you once more. There was not a hint of gentleness now, he was all teeth and tongue, forcing your mouth open wide by having you groan with grinding his hips into yours. 

You started to struggle again, pushing at his armored chest. Oh no, this was worse, yeah this was definitely the worse choice. 

Reaper was not deterred, he grabbed you and spun you around until you lay flat on the bed, his heavy frame landing on top of you.

Breathing labored, you stared up at him with wide eyes. He was regarding you cooly, like he wasn’t affected by his own actions at all, while you were a shaking mess. 

“Al—alright. I take it back.” Goodness, you were so pathetic. 

He hummed darkly, leaned away and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I'm afraid you’ll have to earn my tenderness again. Think I like being a bit rough with you.” His eyes flashed. “It’s exciting.” 

Earn it? You had a bad feeling about this.

Reaper shifted, he sat back on his heels, no longer holding you down, and on instinct you scrambled further away until you bumped against the headboard. 

He looked at you expectantly, at your hoodie to be precise. And slowly it dawned on you. He wanted you to take it off…

Ice cold fear stabbed your heart, you couldn’t do this. No way could you strip for him without dying of shame. You shook your head softly, pleading with your eyes.  _ Don’t make me do this.  _

But he was only raising his brows in an effort to spur you into action. 

This was going to happen either way, but you had the small choice of whether he would play nice, or not. And although both choices were the literal worst, one was slightly less disturbing than the other. You only hoped you were making the right decision. 

With shaking fingers, you reached for the zipper. Your hands were sweaty, but you managed to hold onto it hard enough to start pulling it down. Closing your eyes tightly, you dragged it over your chest and belly, the sound of the zipper grating in your ears, to finally reach the end and separate the two sides. You were still covered though, it would take a push to open the sweater completely.

You cracked your eyes open tentatively, too anxious about what Reaper was doing. His red eyes were glued to where your trembling hand was still gripping the zipper. Was now the time when he would pounce? The fear made you light headed. 

“Good girl. Go on,” he half growled and nodded at your legs.

The praise made you blush. How fucking stupid was that? This next part seemed even harder than the one before. At least you were wearing underwear down there. Trying not to think much anymore, you got your thumbs in the waistband of your sweatpants and pushed them down your legs, a little awkwardly so as to not disturb the jacket that was covering you yet. 

When you had discarded the pants onto the floor, you pulled your knees against you, trying to hide from view. You cast wary glances at him. 

Slowly, very slowly, he moved forward. Then, he struck like a snake would, one hand curled around your ankle and pulled you towards him in quick succession. He had tugged so hard, your head was bouncing off the mattress beneath you as you lay flat once more and he was above you again.

You feared your heart was going to burst out of your chest the way it was beating so hard. 

When he’d dragged you down the bed like that, your hoodie had opened on its own and he used the opportunity to get his hands on you. He pulled your naked legs over his thighs, his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched at the sight of you around him and pressed your groins together.

A metallic trinket that looked like some form of medaillon hanging from his belt came to rest against your stomach, the shock of its coldness made you gasp. His armored pants were hard and unyielding against the soft skin of your inner thighs, scratching and piercing you in some places. 

You whimpered. 

The bulge you could feel between your legs was unmistakably his dick, eager and already half-hard. Your blush deepened as goosebumps rose over your entire body.

Then he was stroking your belly with his big hand, until he went further up to brush over your chest and finally grabbed a handful of your breasts.

He wasn’t exactly rough with you, but he wasn’t gentle either. Still, you blushed hard with his bold touch, squirming underneath him and biting your lip, turning your head to the side. 

Apparently, he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck. His teeth grazed your ear, then he moved further down along your jugular, until he licked over your nipple before biting down on it softly. 

You gasped at the feeling, it was sending little electric shocks down to your core. Your thighs tensed where they lay around his waist and he groaned when you accidentally ground against him. 

He breathed hotly against your skin, then sucked on your nipple and swirled his tongue around it. You couldn’t help the moan bubbling up and how you drew your legs together, squeezing his hips tightly while ignoring the pain the hard plates were causing your skin. You felt so vulnerable, practically naked while he was still fully clothed, in his damn armor no less. 

He slammed his hips into yours, pushing you up the bed a fraction with the force of it while simultaneously giving you a taste of what was coming for you. 

Your breath stuttered with how he was manhandling you. All hard edges, sharp teeth on your breasts and protruding metal bruising your skin. It was too much, you were starting to hyperventilate.

_ There’s no way out, I’m trapped, I can’t breathe… _

He pressed your thigh against his own, hard, and you cried out at the pain that flared up your leg.

Tears burned your eyes when you screwed them shut, with your upper body turned to the side your arms flew up to hide your face behind them while your body was shaking uncontrollably, soft whimpers sounding with every breath out. 

_ I’m not here to hurt you. _

Fucking liar. 

Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing. The tight grip he’d had on your upper leg eased off, brushed over the spot soothingly and then pressed your leg further to the side. Anxiously, you peered sideways from behind your arm to watch his actions. 

It seemed as if he was inspecting the damage he’d done to your inner thigh due to that armor of his. He hummed in thought, then raised your leg while simultaneously bending down to press a kiss to the spot, his sharp eyes finding yours.

“Sorry about that,  _ mariquita, _ ” he appeased, let go of your leg and reached for his belt instead. The sound of the leather sliding free and the clinking metal had you tensing up. 

When he had freed the belt, he discarded it to the side, but—you couldn’t help but notice—still within reach. With precision and routine he reached for the clamps that would loosen the hold of his chest plate. They were quite numerous, but you watched him undo every single one of them, too afraid to look away for even a fraction of a second. 

Reaper was smiling lopsidedly. When he had finished undoing the very last one, he made sure you were still paying attention as he shrugged out of the chest plate, under which he wasn’t wearing anything. 

That mist was rising off of him again, now that he was topless there was nothing to contain it anymore. You wondered what was up with his condition, but were too afraid to ask. 

Your breath caught for the upteenth time that day when the mist had cleared. His skin was just as greyish and dark as on the rest of him. Never had you seen so many scars on somebody before either. They were big and small alike, some screamed of sharp tools that must have slashed him, others looked rugged and downright nasty. You’d seen their kind before: explosions and their shrapnel left these kinds of horrible wounds.

The sheer amount of pain and suffering one had had to endure with these scars as testament; you shuddered in sympathy. 

Reaper’s chest was big, a light dusting of dark curls began around his pecs, then gathered at the bottom of his taut belly and disappeared in a trail down his pants. He chuckled darkly when he caught you checking him out like that. Ah damn, your eyes seemed to have a will of their own. 

That blush on your cheeks was going to burn a hole through your skin sooner or later.

He reached out and took a hold of your good hand, brought it up and pressed it against his chest. It rose and fell with his breathing, you even detected a faint heartbeat, albeit a very slow one. 

You were facing him again, one arm extended toward him, the other unconsciously balled into a fist and pressed against your sternum. 

“Go on.”

What? What were you supp—

_ Oh.  _

He wanted you to use your healing on him. Automatically, you shook your head. Nothing good has ever come of it.

His eyes narrowed and your heart sank. 

“Your choice,  _ mariquita. _ Either give me what I want,” he kissed your fingertips with deceptive tenderness. “Or I’ll simply take it.”

Your throat closed up. You were scared shitless of him when he was under the influence of your healing powers, but what would he do if you stopped cooperating now? 

Slowly, but surely, he pressed your hand against his heart. The image of his greyish skin in contrast to yours was mesmerizing. The firm muscle underneath your palm was warm, his skin soft.

“Understood?”

You stared at him. There was no way around it. With a meek nod you surrendered. 

The healing you sent out was just the amount needed to heal minor wounds, Reaper closed his eyes in bliss when it hit him, his hand fell away from where he held yours against his chest. 

You watched as he laid his head back, a look of pure bliss written across his face. The dark mist that was constantly rising off of him intensified, almost shrouding his face from view. 

The moan that was rumbling through his chest made you shiver, your still sweaty hand slipped and brushed over his dusky nipple. With an otherworldly groan he fell forward through the mist to hold himself above you, his hands on both sides of your head.

His pupils were blown wide, the red fire burning brightly in a fine ring around them. He blew cool mist into your face when he opened his mouth to groan one more time.

Reaper undulated against you, bent down and went for your neck with open mouthed kisses. It was difficult to keep the contact and the healing up in this new position as well as having to deal with the assault on your senses. His hands pushed the sides of the jacket you still wore apart forcefully, kneaded your breasts, then reached around to grab your back and hauled you up to his level. With swift motions, he divested you of the hoodie, now you sat in his lap while he frantically cradled your head and kissed you with such ferocity it stole your breath away completely.

You hated that you could recognize his taste, he had kissed you often enough now. 

Gradually, you lowered the healing output, until you stopped it completely. 

Reaper slowed down after a few seconds, the urgency with which he had practically devoured you mellowed until he was kissing you so sensually instead that it made you  _ feel _ things. Things that terrified you. You were flesh and blood after all, of course this was affecting you. A small sob bubbled up from deep inside your body, hands curling against his chest. 

One of his hands was making its way down your back, over your bottom and then to the front of your underwear. 

Panting, you pulled away, wanting to say something. To tell him to stop. But, you realized, you had crossed a line where a ‘no’ was not an option anymore. You were past that point now and there would be no going back.

So, you resigned yourself to warily watching as his fingers lightly stroked you through your panties. It sent tingles up your spine and you gasped at the sensation of it. He used the opportunity and kissed you again, stealing your breath away with every stroke over your sensitive nub and his tongue inside your mouth. You had to brace yourself on his shoulders, the steel like muscle underneath was stiflingly strong.

You didn’t even notice how he slipped his fingers underneath the cotton of your panties, the touch of his fingers against your naked skin was more intense now. 

His other hand was holding your neck, his thumb tilting your head back by the jaw so he had better access to your mouth. 

With your eyes closed you could feel how his fingers crept further down to gather some of the essence between your thighs and how he groaned into your mouth when he felt how wet you were, then he smeared it around your clit to slick his movements. 

On the one hand you were mortified at how your body was betraying you. You were so aroused you were practically soaking through your underwear. But you also knew that it was its natural response to the stimulus, there was no way for you to interfere. 

On the other hand you were kind of thankful that your body was responding because sex was not very pleasant while being dry. And you got the distinct impression that Reaper was not carrying a spare bottle of lube around. But who knew? At this point nothing surprised you anymore. 

Again, Reaper snuck his hand down and between your folds, but this time he pushed two fingers inside with no resistance whatsoever. 

This time it was you who groaned. Damn, that felt amazing, they were just the right size with how they stretched you around them and the light curl they did towards your navel. 

Reaper pulled away from your mouth with a loud, wet sound. You let your head drop forward, breathing loudly and trying to stifle the mewls spilling from your lips at the intense feeling of his fingers stroking in just the right spots. 

“Let me hear you,” he cooed, sounding a little out of breath himself, simultaneously speeding up his ministrations. One particular stroke of his must have hit that special nerve in you and you moaned loudly, a new kind of blush forming on your cheeks; one of deep seated arousal mixed with shame.

“Yes,” he hissed, bent down and lightly bit your neck. 

You swore in surprise, the pain was negligible, but you clamped around his fingers nonetheless which earned you a moan and a kiss on the spot he’d just bitten. 

His fingers withdrew, only to return with a third one, stretching you even wider than before. It was almost bordering on uncomfortable, you hadn’t had any kind of intimacy like this in months. Ever since you’d signed up with Overwatch, your love life had been put on the back-burner, and until now you hadn’t minded a bit. Now it seemed disadvantageous. 

Reaper kept nipping and kissing at your neck all the while, now that his third finger was coated in your juices, the constant stroking along your inner walls was becoming easier. 

Then he found your clit with his thumb again, his fondling inside and outside had you keening. 

You could feel a slow orgasm approaching. Ah damn, you really didn’t want to find your release like this, on this demon’s fucking fingers, but it would move things along and bring this night to an end, or at least you hoped that it would. 

With clammy hands you held onto his shoulders for purchase, all his kissing and touching was leaving you light headed. 

He broke away from your neck when you’d grasped his shoulders, his misty breath blowing in your face cooly. 

“Do you want to come,  _ hermosa _ ?” 

Fuck.

Yeah, you did. But you were not going to  _ tell _ him, too…

So you screwed your eyes shut and nodded faintly. 

Reaper tutted. “Tell me,” he commanded and when you kept silent, did his best to hit that spot that made you squirm and see stars. You moaned pathetically, but just couldn’t bring yourself to admit to it with words. 

He kept hitting that same spot over and over again, the orgasm building and almost reaching its crescendo, but before you could topple over that edge, Reaper slowed down again. 

You whined when he stopped, weakly bucking your hips against his fingers, but unable to find the right angle. 

“Say it,” he growled in your ear, his fingers maddeningly slow in their movements, his other hand around the back of your neck and holding you securely in place. 

Fucking hell.

“Please,” you faintly whispered. But it wasn’t enough, he stopped with his fingers buried inside you, keeping you from moving altogether. 

He wasn’t going to remind you a third time, you were sure. But you were also quite stubborn, and so you clenched your teeth in frustration. Let him get off on this, you really didn’t need to.

Maybe if you kept lying to yourself it would become true. 

Without saying a word he started stroking you again, that beautiful release just on the horizon. But you knew he was not going to allow you to reach it without begging him for permission. 

Oh, how you hated him.

“Fuck,  _ please! _ ” You almost yelled when he threatened to withdraw his fingers completely. “Please, I...I want to—to come.” The shame you felt at admitting these things out loud was unbearable, but it was swiftly overshadowed by the sheer pleasure that washed over you the second you had uttered that last word and Reaper resumed his stroking in earnest.

Oh shit, this was intense, your sweaty palms slipped off of his shoulders to grasp at his back when he pulled you against his chest and the two of you embraced. 

“Ah!” You exclaimed when he massaged your clit even faster, just a little more and you’d come. 

Eyes screwed shut in pleasure and concentration you decided to ride that wave that he had forced upon you, your body needed the release badly. 

Your orgasm came swift and powerful, better than you’d had in a  _ while _ . It left you weak and limp in his arms, your cheek resting on his shoulder and your whole body shaking with aftershocks. You still felt his fingers resting inside, the sporadic contractions around them had you feeling a new kind of uncomfortable. 

Almost soothingly, he stroked along your back, down and up again, then he slid his fingers out of you, wiping some of the slick onto your thigh. 

He was trying to keep his breathing even, like he was holding himself back. A violent shiver ran down your body, surely now would be the time he’d be done waiting and playing nice. 

All the afterglow you’d felt dissipated into nothing when he gently, but firmly pushed you back until your head hit the mattress again. His eyes were practically black, the thin ring of fiery red of his irises reminded you that you were in bed with the devil.

With his one hand in the middle of your chest he raised his other one and made a show of licking the fingers that he had used to pleasure you with with languid strokes of his tongue. He moaned obscenely at the taste. Still trying to catch your breath, you tried to look away but found that it was impossible. The image was too mesmerizing in its lasciviousness. 

When he was done he said, “My turn,” got on his knees and used both hands to open the fly of his pants and pushed them down to reveal that he was completely naked underneath.

Immediately, your eyes shot to the proud erection that had sprung free. 

He was...proportionate. 

_ Big _ . 

There was no denying it. He was bigger than you’d ever had before. 

Your mouth went dry at the thought of having to take him. Even though he’d loosened you up a little with his fingers and that orgasm you weren’t sure this was going to be comfortable at all. 

You were also willing to bet that he wouldn’t care about that one little bit. 

Cold fear settled in your stomach. 

“W—why do you do it?” You suddenly blurted in a last ditch effort to buy some time or maybe to deter him.

He flashed you a half-smile. “Because I can.”

“But aren’t you...playing into their plan?” You saw his face contort into a frown. 

“I don’t care about Akande’s plans. I’ll show him that whatever it is, it won’t work on me.” He had managed to completely disrobe, and now he kneeled before you in all his naked glory, at least from what you could see of him from the faint light of the holo projector. You tried very hard not to ogle him.

“How do you know?” Goodness, he was advancing on you again, all your instincts screamed at you to run away, but you also weren’t keen on being chased about in nothing but your underwear. 

He leaned over you. “Because I am Reaper.” The fire in his eyes flashed brightly. “I am Death,” he murmured and brushed his lips over your ribs, up and over a nipple. “Let him try, I like a good challenge.”

You gasped at the sensation, body still strung tight, all the relaxation from your very recent release gone like it never even happened in the first place. 

Was he being that edgy on purpose, to keep you on your toes? If so, it sure was working, you shook like a leaf.

You jumped when he touched your hips on both sides, his hands began to drag down your panties and you couldn’t help how your thighs pressed together. To no avail of course, he pulled them ever further until they were bunched around your knees. All the while he was staring at you, arranged your legs to slide the cotton off and over your feet. With a careless motion he discarded the material onto the floor. 

“But—” you stuttered when he settled between your legs, his dick dangerously close to your core, “don’t you want to know why they do this?” You asked in a trembling voice. Maybe if you proposed to help him he would leave you alone in turn?

He stopped and considered you for a moment, his hands grabbing your thighs.

This was your chance. 

“I can...help you find out.” Wide eyed you stared up at him, hoping with every fibre of your being that he was actually considering what you said. 

Next thing you knew he was pulling you into him, one of your thighs held up and high while he guided his cock inside you. It happened so fast, the feeling of being penetrated by his large dick stole all the breath from your lungs. 

It was like being punched in the stomach, his girth was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He pushed forward without a pause and didn’t stop before he was fully sheathed inside, the tip of his dick pressing painfully against your cervix. 

You stared at him open mouthed, hot tears burning in your eyes and your hands fisted into the sheets. 

As the first tear ran down the side of your head, a sob bubbled up from deep inside your chest. And with this the dam broke. 

Crying had always been a very personal and intimate thing for you, hell not even your mother had ever seen you cry more than once or twice, let alone boyfriends. But you couldn’t stop it anymore, it was all too much. You wanted to go home, to not feel like this anymore. 

Reaper had let go of your leg and was now propped up on his elbows on top of you. While your leg slid down the side of his powerful thigh, he sighed into your ear in pleasure. 

“Oh, you will help me,  _ mariquita, _ ” he murmured against your cheek, “but on my terms.”

And with this he started to move, rolled his hips into yours slowly, carefully. Like he wanted to savor the moment. 

It wasn’t exactly painful, but the way he dragged against your inner walls was unbearably intense, the stretch uncomfortable. Still, you grabbed the sheets so hard you thought they might tear soon. Eyes screwed shut and tears streaming from them, you turned your face to the side, trying in vain to suppress the noises coming out of your mouth. 

Reaper growled animalistically when he sped up, eliciting a broken wail from you. There was nothing gentle or considerate about the way he was thrusting inside you now, everytime he bottomed out he pushed you up the bed a fraction more. Until you finally hit the headboard and even further so your head lay at an awkward angle. 

Only then did he pull out and backed up a little, dragged you down to his level and back onto his cock. As he entered you it was with a sound that was a mix between a sigh and a grunt. Through blurry eyes you could faintly see his face contorting in ecstasy when he resumed his pace from earlier.

He was on his knees again, his hands had a secure hold on your thighs while he fucked you so hard and fast you felt like you got whiplash. 

When he pulled you into him by the hips he hit your cervix again and you cried out in pain. 

He didn’t seem to care much, he hit that spot over and over. 

“Stop!” You finally cried, your hands pushing at his chest feebly. But a quick glance at his face revealed that Reaper wasn’t even listening. His eyes were hidden behind that dark mist that was surrounding him, rising up in plumes that were only faintly whirling about with the staccato rhythm of his hips. His mouth was hanging open, his breaths coming in short bursts. 

Overall it seemed like he was lost in sensation, your plea fell on deaf ears. Instead, you tried to angle your hips away so he couldn’t push as far inside, but that only earned you a growl. Reaper leaned forward again and licked along your neck—seemingly his favourite spot on you to put his mouth—and after a brief kiss there, sunk his teeth into your skin. 

Too shocked by the action you choked on a scream, and clawed at his back. He’d bitten you hard this time, you were sure he had drawn blood. Just like your fingernails must have left him with new wounds to adorn his scarred body.

It felt like he was consuming you, inside and out. He was everywhere, surrounding you from all sides and angles, tearing you apart and putting you back together into something else. 

When would this end? 

Would it ever end?

Reaper removed his teeth from your neck and lapped at the wound with small moans, his hips were still thrusting forward at a punishing pace. He hadn’t even noticed your scratches it seemed, or maybe they had spurred him on?

One of his hands curled around your throat, the feeling now almost familiar, then he turned your head to face him. The constant flow of tears made it hard to see but you could make out where his eyes were burning into yours. 

He was knocking the breath out of you with every powerful thrust, you could see his jaw clenching in want and lust, it was overwhelming in its violence. But he forced you to look him in the eyes while he was defiling you with every snap of his hips, bringing your mouths closer together and finally kissing you. The taste of your blood on his lips made you nauseous. 

It didn’t last long at least, he rocked back and forth one last time and stilled, pressed against you as close as physically possible, and spilled his release deep inside of you. 

* * *

You felt like you were going to pass out. 

With shaky, shallow breaths, you stared at the ceiling with burning eyes, watching the low light of the holo projector dancing in a myriad of colors. Small sobs were racking your body. 

Your mind was shrinking back from what just happened. 

_ I’m not here to hurt you _ , the memory of his voice was mocking you. It wasn’t like you believed him anyway, but you felt silly for even wanting to trust him in the first place. 

There were fresh tears running down the side of your head and into your hair, you hiccuped when Reaper moved his hand away from your neck and brushed it over your face gently, down your nose and over your mouth, the pads of his fingers catching on your bottom lip.

“Got a bit carried away there,” he murmured while inspecting the bite wound he’d left behind.

Underneath the hopelessness and the terror you could feel a rage blooming. Oh how you hated him. 

He just laid there, still on top of you, still  _ inside _ of you, which you were still reminded of by the small twitches from his spent dick. 

“Ge—get off,” you tried to compel, but it only came out a weak whisper between sniffles. 

His eyes met yours again. 

“You feel…” he searched your face. “so fucking perfect around me.” He simply ignored what you said and to emphasize his point he rolled his hips languidly.

You couldn’t suppress a moan at the feeling. He was moving differently now, slower, and—you were hesitant to even think it—with the intention to pleasure  _ you _ .

He was still hard, after he had just come mere minutes ago? Maybe it was part of being a fucking wraith. 

No, no, no, you couldn’t do this again so soon. 

“Wait,” you pleaded, reaching for him with shaking arms. But he just grabbed your wrists and pushed them down onto the bed, leaning into you.

“Calm down,  _ mariquita. _ ” He cooed, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll forget every pretty little boyfriend you ever had.”

And with that promise he started to move again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hermosa: beautiful (fem.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, it's the final chapter, guys! 15k words, oops lol
> 
> Find me on tumblr: danjo-ao3

“Ah!”

Your feeble cry ended in a long drawn-out moan. Sometime after Reaper had started to rock into you again, he was beginning to caress you everywhere he could. It was as if he had needed to fuck you hard and fast to get it out of his system, and now he had all the time in the world to actually pay attention. 

At least that’s what it felt like to you.

He was getting you to that level of arousal again that had you sweating and moaning uncontrollably. When he was not kissing or licking you somewhere, he murmured Spanish words against your skin. 

You didn’t like where this was going any more than what had happened a few moments ago. 

It all felt too real, too emotional. Your nerves were raw, the edges frayed and vulnerable. 

When he pressed forward it was with an unhurried roll of his hips that hit you differently now, he stared at your face with half lidded eyes, red orbs drawn to the shape of your mouth. Whenever he did something you reacted to with a moan or a bite to your lips, he seemed to take mental note of it. And then he did it again. And again, until you were a whimpering, shuddering mess. 

Now that your body had had some time to adjust to his size, it was a lot more comfortable. Pleasurable even.

It really felt incredible.

And you hated him so much for it. 

This wasn’t supposed to feel good at all, he was still fucking  _ raping _ you. And here you were, moaning around his cock like a whore. What the hell was wrong with you?

_ Don’t be so hard on yourself,  _ a small voice chided you. 

You weren’t exactly sure which was worse; the way he had simply taken what he wanted from you, or the way he was obviously trying to get you to enjoy your own abuse. 

All of it was fucking with your head. 

And it felt like he’d been at it for hours now. He was obviously trying to get you to come on his dick this time, then why was he drawing it out like this?

It was too hot in your room, the friction between you two was stifling, Reaper himself was practically burning your skin where he was touching you, waves of heat radiated off of him, at the same time that black mist was swirling around and was soothingly cool where it kissed your sweaty body. 

You moaned in both agony and pleasure, although the latter was definitely outshining anything else you felt at the moment. It was building again, another approaching orgasm promising sweet release. 

It was obvious that Reaper was holding himself back, he was working you up and determined to get you off this time. So there was no getting out of this without you reaching that peak. 

Another plethora of foreign words whispered against your ear sent shivers all over your body, your legs shook where they lay spread around his hips, the muscles no longer able to function properly. Your mind was slowly starting to drift amidst the heat and how your head swayed with his thrusts. 

“—ine,  _ mariquita.” _

His last words made your ears perk up, while you’d started to zone out he had partially shifted back to English. But you’d only caught the end of the sentence. 

You wanted to ask what he’d said but just as you opened your mouth to speak he hit you at that angle that had you moan in abandon. 

His teeth grazed against your jaw, and your heart jumped into your throat at the feeling.

“Mine,” he repeated, and in the darkness his red eyes flashed where they stared into yours. The expression on his face was overwhelming. Ecstasy and pleasure was written all over it, but underneath was that always present otherworldly demonic quality that was so terrifying it left you speechless. 

A full bodied sob shook you as he leaned even closer and hissed “You’re  _ mine.” _ There was nothing remotely human in the way he sounded, you couldn’t describe how his voice grated over your senses, how it rattled you to the core and took away the very last remnants of hope that you’d dared to hold on to. 

Now that he had found the angle that had you wailing in pleasure, he was hitting that spot mercilessly. All you could do was try to keep breathing through it, you were no longer able to stop making sounds. 

He was hitting you just right, but not fast enough to send you over the edge. 

Your voice was giving out at one point, screeching and hoarse moans was all that came forth now. Eyes screwed shut in exhaustion and concentration, you balled your hands into fists above where he was still holding them down onto the mattress. 

You couldn’t take this anymore.

“Please,” you whispered hoarsely, eyes wet and stinging. 

And by some strange kind of miracle Reaper actually listened. Gradually, he sped up. It only took a few more long strokes of his cock for you to reach your release with a long broken whimper. 

When you zoned back in, you felt how he came inside you one more time, accompanied by a low growl that he released into the darkness of your room. 

For a long time nothing happened, Reaper was still between your legs, his hands around your wrists and you two were just breathing hard. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, you were too tired of having to see him. Of that smug look of satisfaction on his stupid, handsome demon face. 

Finally, he released your arms, pulled back and slowly slid out of you. His seed was running down between your thighs and into your sheets, it made you want to die. 

_ Please just leave _ , you thought desperately. You just wanted to be left alone already, to pretend none of this ever happened. To erase his touch from your body with the hottest water your pathetic little shower could provide. 

Reaper got off the bed and it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, like you could breathe again. Instinctively, you turned to the side and into a fetal position, your body trembling as you hugged yourself. 

But you didn’t hear him leave at all, he seemed to be going into your bathroom instead. 

He returned to the bed shortly, the mattress dipped underneath his weight and soon his heat settled next to you again. Your skin crawled in revulsion as he brought a cool, damp cloth against the wound on your neck. 

How considerate. You wanted to punch him so badly. 

“Don’t,” you rasped quietly, defiance and anger scratching at the surface of your repressed emotions.

He said nothing, but removed the cloth and pressed his body against your backside instead, effectively spooning you with his strong, ashen arms around your middle. 

Hot tears were burning your eyes once more. When would this torment end, why couldn’t he leave you alone already? You wanted to put your clothes back on, get a barrier between yourself and him, anything. 

Another very long moment went by before he spoke up.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know.”

You were stunned into silence once more. 

What?

Goodness, was he going to tell you his life story now?

You didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage him to stay longer than necessary. You didn’t care for his vulnerable-side-act at all. 

But he went on, unbothered by your silence.

“I haven’t felt anything in… years.” His voice ghosted over your shoulder between small kisses. “Not since you touched me. There is something in that blood of yours that makes me–” he stopped and searched for the right words, his fingers squeezing your hip. “–it drives me insane.” A dark chuckle that caused goosebumps to rise along your arms. “More than usual.”

Fuck, you didn’t want to hear any of this, his fucked up excuse for raping you. 

“How nice for you.”

“Don’t be like that  _ mariquita.” _ How dare he sound so nonchalant and amused at this. “I’m sorry about your neck,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to the wound. It stung and you winced, trying to pull away from Reaper’s embrace. He held on tightly, nosing into your neck further, inhaling your scent. “I won’t bite you next time,” he promised with his teeth bared in a grin and your heart came to a stop. 

Next time?

He had just confirmed your worst fear. Your head spun around to stare at him in shock. But his smirk spoke volumes. 

“No,” you whispered feebly, head shaking in denial. 

Reaper chuckled darkly, one hand holding your face in a deceivingly soft touch. 

“I don’t think you listened to me,” his face fell a little. “I  _ need _ this, I need to feel this.” An edge of madness had crept into his eyes, into the way he spoke those words through his teeth, and how the previously gentle hold of his hands turned into unforgiving grips of desperation. 

You whined. No, no, no… not again, never again. When a tear escaped your wide, fearful eyes, it seemed to startle Reaper out of his current headspace. His fingers relaxed again, his thumb even wiped away the moisture from your cheek. 

His face had gone back to his usual expression of disinterest and general broodiness. 

“You are mine,” he said, a finality to his tone that stood at odds with the soft caresses he made to your face and sides. When you didn’t answer him–because, what were you supposed to say to that?–he turned you around to face him fully and pulled you closely.

At this point, there was no fight left in you, he was able to manipulate your body however he saw fit. His right hand resumed his spot on the side of your face, angling it up so you had to look him in the eyes while he was pressed against you again. 

The two of you were just staring at each other, Reaper with satisfaction, and you with silent resignation.

When he pulled you towards him you managed to whisper “I hate you,” before he closed the distance and kissed you. 

* * *

The days were blending together while you were holed up alone in your room. A simple sick note to the lab excused your absence, explaining in a few words that you would not be present for a couple of days. 

Surprisingly, Casey came to visit you on the third day. She had brought chicken soup and encouraging words. You’d noticed how she hadn’t taken a single step inside, even though you’d offered her a seat. 

A turtleneck sweater was hiding the marks on your throat from view, even though they had begun to fade already thanks to your accelerated healing. Still, you were paranoid that they were visible and you absolutely did not want to have that conversation with anyone. 

A knock at your door startled you from where you sat on your armchair eating the lukewarm soup that tasted like watered down broth, even though your stomach was thankful for the sustenance, you hadn’t eaten since you’d called in sick. Thinking it was Casey again, you didn’t bother to look through the door’s peephole and opened it. 

Ogundimu was standing on the other side, white elegantly cut suit and gold frame sunglasses accentuating his expensive taste in clothes. With a small smile he greeted you and boldly stepped inside, almost knocking you out of his way had you not made room for him. 

You watched him as he looked around, assessing your living conditions. Just now you realized that your room was pretty messy. Clothes were lying on the ground, the bed was still unmade from three nights ago. You were sleeping in your armchair now, you couldn’t even look at the bed for longer than a second.

Ogundimu looked out of place in your small shabby room, he did not belong here at all.

“Did you need something?” You asked after a few seconds, already annoyed at his presence. 

“Actually,” he said and turned around to you, taking off his glasses in the process, “I wanted to see if there was something  _ you _ needed.” His eyes roamed over your front, no doubt judging your choice of clothes and messy hair. 

Self-consciously, you rubbed at your arm.

“I’m good,” you lied.

“Excellent, because I need you in fighting condition in two days.”

You just gawked at him. Was he talking about another mission? Another mission… with Reaper? Cold dread settled in your stomach. 

“I–I don’t know if I…” you stammered and averted your eyes to the floor. 

You heard Ogundimu take a few steps towards you. 

“I almost forgot,” he murmured and held out a chip towards you. Confused, you looked up at him again. “Here’s the pin code for that bank account we spoke about.”

You knew there must have been various emotions flitting across your face right then from the way Ogundimu was studying you. Shock, denial, sadness, and anger made you ball your hands into fists. 

After a deep breath to calm you down you answered him.

“I don’t want your money.”

His eyes squinted, first in suspicion, but then his mouth split in a small grin. 

“The mission brief is tomorrow at 0700 sharp,” Ogundimu changed the subject and laid the chip down on your coffee table, put his shades back on and was moving to your door again. “Don’t be late,” he said before he left. 

Three days. It had only been three days since you’d last seen Reaper. It was too soon, you couldn’t deal with him again. Not yet, not ever again really. With a big sigh you sunk into your armchair, the cold soup’s smell nauseating. Your eyes fell onto the small chip lying so offendingly on the table. With a grunt you grabbed it and stuffed it into your pants pocket so you didn’t have to see it anymore. 

* * *

You woke in a cold sweat on your chair, another nightmare had woken you early. The bedside table clock read a few minutes after six in the morning. A shaking clammy hand wiped at your face when you sat up. 

_ Ouch, _ your back was hurting so much from the awkward position you’d slept in. One arm had fallen asleep and was now tingling unpleasantly. You were still tired, so unbelievably tired. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep at all at night, you never knew if Reaper would simply appear out of thin air when you weren’t looking. And when you actually managed to drift off it was to night terrors of a very specific kind, with whispered words about pleasure and pain, making you relive that night in vivid detail.

“ _ Fucking _ hell,” you sighed heavily and pushed off from the chair to drag yourself into the bathroom. Today was the stupid brief for some stupid mission, so you had to look presentable, you guessed. You’d really slacked off these past few days, but you didn’t care what anyone thought. 

A quick shower and brushed teeth had you feel a little better at least, although donning the informal Talon uniform jacket with the embroidered insignia made your stomach turn. That, and probably the fact that you’d only eaten one bowl of soup these past four days. Before you would go to that meeting you’d grab something to eat in the cafeteria. 

On your way there you met Dr. O’Deorain who sipped coffee from a porcelain cup.

She called your name and waited until you approached her. 

“Seeing you here, up and about, I’m guessing you’ll be working at the lab today?” Her voice was stern, as was her face. She was probably annoyed that you’d been absent for so long.

As you were contemplating what to say, you figured that now she had seen you it was hard to pretend to be sick anymore. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess I will.”

“Good. There’s a lot to be done,” she answered, then took a swig from her cup. “Also, I made some adjustments to your glove. We will do some testing later.” With that off her chest she just turned and left, not bothering to wait for your answer.

After you managed to chew on a sandwich for a few minutes you made your way to the briefing room, cup of coffee still in hand. There were only a few other agents seated around the big table in the middle, talking amongst themselves. Again you chose a seat far in the back, keeping to yourself and sipping from your paper cup sporadically. 

Just a few seconds later Ogundimu entered the room. All eyes were on him as he took his place at the head of the table. 

He stood tall and imposing, his fingertips grazed the tabletop. “Good morning,” he said, his eyes making the round. “On your screens are the coordinates for our latest mission to Numbani.”

In front of you, a holo screen popped up. An orange map was showing a pulsing spot right over Numbani, in the top left corner a photo of a girl, smiling at the camera, underneath her name: Efi Rotìmí Opèyèmi Oluwadaré Gabrielle Oladele.

Another assassination target. You felt nauseous again. Cold sweat broke out on your skin. They wanted to kill a child. What the hell were you still doing here? 

While Ogundimu went on about specifics for their approach you zoned out. 

Why were you even surprised at this point? They killed people all the time after all, lots of them. They apparently had no qualms about forced prostitution either, so why had you assumed they’d draw the line at child murder?

You couldn’t look away from her happy face, her carefree countenance was so at odds with this sinister plan to kill her it made bile rise in your throat. 

The door banging open all of a sudden startled you so much you thought your heart was jumping out of your chest.

At the entrance stood Reaper in his usual attire, mask and claws in place. You sunk back into your chair, you hadn’t been prepared to see him again so soon. 

Reaper was still as a statue, he looked around the room once before his gaze stopped on you for a second. Your breath caught as you were staring back at him, he was the most terrifying in that mask. 

The claws on his hands tightened into fists once, before his mask was turned to Ogundimu, whom he had interrupted mid sentence. 

“What is this?” Reaper asked, anger dripping from his gravelly voice. 

“Gabriel, can I help you?” Ogundimu offered with a smile. He pulled away from the table and gestured to the screen behind him. “We are in the middle of a briefing.”

“I can see that,  _ Akande. _ ” He really sounded pissed now, and for once it was nice to not have that anger directed at you. He stepped inside and towards Ogundimu before continuing a little quieter. “What I’m asking is why I haven’t been informed of this mission.”

Huh, that was interesting. 

Ogundimu smiled a placating smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Before he gave Reaper an answer he walked to the door and then turned to the agents who were deathly silent in the face of Reaper’s anger. 

“I believe we managed to cover all the important parts, I’ll forward all the details to your communicators, you’re dismissed.”

You’ve never seen anyone leave this fast from a mission brief and you mentally rolled your eyes at their fear. If they thought Reaper was scary now they should see him with blood on his lips and a crazed smile. 

Oh, your mind was wandering into dangerous territory, you shook your head and got up from your seat last, creeping along the side of the table and toward Ogundimu who held the door open for everyone. 

“Not you,” Ogundimu said and put his cybernetic arm between you and the exit. 

_ Shit, _ you mentally cursed and cast wary eyes up to him. 

“Go and sit down.” He gestured stony faced to the seat closest to him. You did so reluctantly, anxiety skyrocketing. When you had sat down you opted to watch your own hands where they fiddled with the material of your pants underneath the table. Why did he want you to be present?

Ogundimu closed the door gently before moving towards Reaper again, who was still standing in his spot at the head of the table. 

“You weren’t informed because you are busy with your own missions, are you not?” Ogundimu’s eyes were narrowed as he addressed the other man. Reaper crossed his arms in front of his chest. From where you sat you could see that both of them were about the same height as they stood toe to toe. 

“Cut the crap, we both know this has nothing to do with that,” Reaper growled beneath his mask.

Ogundimu smiled. “I am surprised. You’re usually not even present for briefings.”

“That’s because I’m usually the one devising the fucking plan for those missions.” Reaper was seething. “Who planned this one, Akande?” The way he was saying the other’s name tended to sound like an insult. 

Ogundimu leaned his head back a fraction. “Maximilien and I did.”

Reaper huffed. “Should have known you would go over my head like this sooner or later.”

“Oh, come now, Gabe—”

“Don’t fucking  _ Gabe _ me now.” Reaper interrupted him, his arms back at his sides, hands balled into fists. You could hear the leather of his gloves straining from where you sat. “Honestly, I don’t care for your mission.”

“Then why the scene?”

Reaper stepped right into Ogundimu’s space, head at an angle. “Why is she here?”

They both looked at you, and you couldn’t even meet their eyes, you cast your gaze back down to your hands with frayed nerves. 

“We need a medic, don’t we?”

“Then take another one.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s—” Reaper stopped abruptly, and you raised your head tentatively to peek at him through your lashes. 

You saw a nasty smile spread across Ogundimu’s face. “Because she’s what?”

Reaper had backed down a few steps, his body language had changed from angry to uncertain. It was weird to see him like that. 

“She’s–nothing.” He hissed and sat down in the chair at the very head of the table. “She can’t even heal enough without fainting.”

Why did that comment hurt?

Ogundimu turned to you, his mouth still curled into a smile as he studied you. You hugged yourself with one arm, this whole situation was unbearably uncomfortable. 

“So she’s nothing to you?” Heavy steps came to stop behind you, Ogundimu’s presence was unsettling. 

Reaper only grunted, arms crossed once more, casually sitting in that massive chair. 

Ogundimu’s flesh and bone hand landed on your shoulder like it did so many times before. But this time it felt different, he hadn’t done it for your benefit, not to placate you, not to comfort you, but as an interlude. Somehow you knew what was about to happen, you shivered in fear. 

“If that is the case,” he murmured and dropped his cybernetic arm on your other shoulder as well before bringing it forward to wrap his mechanical fingers around your throat and squeeze. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I killed her, right?”

Your mind drew blank, as if on their own accord your eyes shot to Reaper as your mouth opened to suck in a breath. 

But he just sat there, totally unphased by what was happening. 

When Ogundimu saw no reaction from the other man, he gradually tightened his grip on your windpipe until you whimpered and tried to pry his hand off with your own. 

“You’d kill one of your few medics just to prove a point?” Reaper asked, his head tilted.

You stared at him incredulously.

Had all of Reaper’s talk about you belonging to him been untrue? If so you’d be screwed now, because apparently you were of no use for Ogundimu besides being a way to find out about Reaper’s loyalties and motivations. 

“Try me,” Ogundimu said heatedly. 

You groaned when the pressure became so unbearable that you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull any moment. This was even worse than the time Reaper was strangling you, he hadn’t squeezed nearly as hard as Ogundimu. Already your vision was fading, bright spots were dancing in front of your closed lids and panic was making your heart pound wildly against your chest. 

Tears were streaming down your face when the pressure suddenly let off and you could breathe again. It hurt, oh it hurt so much when you tried to breathe two mouthfuls at a time. His hand was still around your neck though, still holding you upright, the back of your head now pressed against his abdomen behind you. 

“You have a point,” the man said behind you, “it would be quite the waste.”

Then he leaned down to your level. 

“Sorry, this isn’t personal,” Ogundimu whispered in your ear deceptively soft. Then he hauled you up from your seat, kicked aside the chair from right below you and crowded you against the table until you were bent over it, his crotch pushing into you from behind. The hand around your throat disappeared completely and instead grabbed a handful of your hair, pulled tight and forced you to look at Reaper again. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I—” Ogundimu rolled his hips into you and you gasped in shock. “—borrowed your little toy?” 

Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. No, no, no… what the hell was happening? Was Ogundimu really going to…  _ just _ to piss off Reaper?

“No!” You couldn’t help it, this was too much. You couldn’t even bear the thought. 

From eyes blurred by tears you saw Reaper slowly unraveling his arms, leaning forward in his seat, the hollow eyes of his mask boring into yours. He was breathing faster, the way his armor was rising and falling was visible to you even from across the table. 

“Go on, fuck her. I don’t care.”

Well, shit. He wouldn’t help you after all. Ogundimu’s plan wasn’t working, Reaper wasn’t reacting at all and you didn’t want to imagine how far the man behind you was willing to go to prove that he won. 

“Right,” Ogundimu breathed and pushed your head to the hard wood of the table, his other hand wandering along your back to push your pants down. You wailed when you felt the cool air of the room against your backside, your arms flailing uselessly in the air beside you. There was nothing you could do to stop him, his grip was too strong. Your cheek hurt where it was pressed to the table, his cybernetic fingers cold and unyielding against your scalp. 

“Please don’t do this,” you gasped and Ogundimu leaned down to speak to you.

“Maybe you can tell me if he’s telling the truth, hm?” 

Why was he so interested in knowing about all of this?

“He–he said to me that,” you hiccuped, “that he needs my healing to feel something.” 

“Is that so?” Ogundimu sounded curious, his hand on your back massaging soothing circles into your muscles. 

Reaper scoffed. “And what if I said that?” His claws were scratching along the wood, you could hear it where your ear was pressed to the surface, loud and clear.

“Tell me something, dear,” the man behind you said right next to your ear, “did you sleep with him?”

Well, you wouldn’t describe being raped as sleeping with someone. But as far as technicalities went it had happened. 

You really didn’t want to admit it out loud, you trembled as you clenched your teeth together, staring straight ahead at Reaper who had the power to stop this at any moment if he so desired, but didn’t. And you wanted to scream at him, to ask him where his talk about you being his was now, why he wasn’t telling Ogundimu to back the fuck off.

When you didn’t answer, the man behind you pressed his groin against your backside through your panties, reminding you that he was in control. “Tell me.”

With jerky movements you nodded once, every fiber of your being repulsed at having to concede like this. 

Ogundimu chuckled. “I knew it,” he said, triumph sounding in his voice. “I knew it from that very first mission I had assigned her to you. That she was affecting you, the marks on her neck told me all about it.” He stopped the rubbing on your back. “But I’d have never guessed that it was because of her healing.” He sounded curious now, “Maybe I should sample it myself.” 

Suddenly he stepped away from you far enough to flip you over into your back, your hair half covered your face where it stuck to your wet cheek. Seeing him above you like this brought back the memories of what happened in the lab before Reaper had come to your room that night and you panicked. 

You tried to hit him with your fists where you could, but of course it didn’t help at all, your legs were trapped in your own pants between your knees, and he simply caught your wrists and pinned them above your head in his massive cybernetic first. You could hear the machinery whirring inside it. 

“Easy now,” he warned you darkly, all traces of mirth gone from his features. “I’m trying to let you up so you can dress yourself, alright?”

You didn’t believe him, but nodded hesitantly anyway. 

Slowly, he let go of your wrists and pulled away three steps to give you space, he didn’t even look at you anymore, instead he watched Reaper whom you could only see from your peripheral as a dark shadow. 

Quickly, you got up and off the table, pulled up your pants and shakily ran a hand through your messy hair. 

Ogundimu had taken a seat in one of the chairs and beckoned you now.

On wobbly legs you awkwardly crossed the distance and came to a halt in front of him. Reaper was behind you now, you couldn’t see him at all anymore, but Ogundimu could.

“Come,” he said with a half smile and patted his lap. Uncertain, you looked from his legs up to his face, taking deep breaths to calm down your still racing heart. Cautiously you wanted to sit down across his legs, but he shook his head. 

With a scowl you straddled his lap instead, your hands coming to rest on your own thighs, balled to fists. 

“Good. Now, please show me how you heal someone.”

You swallowed around a very dry throat, you could still feel his fist around it when you did. 

“It depends on where they’re hurt,” you answered meekly, unable to look him in the eyes. 

He hummed in thought. “Well, then show me where you healed our dear friend Gabriel.” Without having to check you knew that Ogundimu was looking at Reaper when he said that.

With an internal sigh you raised your right arm, still slightly bluish in tint from that last episode with Dr. O’Deorain and hesitantly touched his sternum through the dark red dress shirt he was wearing. 

You could feel the vibration of his chuckle. “There? That’s adorable,” he commented and you felt your cheeks burn in humiliation. 

You tried to ignore his warmth underneath your thighs and palm, instead closing your eyes and sending out a bit of healing. He didn’t react at first, but then he hummed in delight.

“I can see how someone could enjoy this, but,” he grabbed your wrist gently with his flesh hand, “I believe it might be more... authentic without a barrier, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” He flashed one of his brilliant smiles and your stomach sunk. “Would you be so kind and help me with that?” His voice had lowered considerably as he motioned to his front, the air around you became warmer while you could swear that an icy wind was blowing against your back. 

With shaking fingers you clumsily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, getting them open one by one, then you slightly pulled the two halves apart, revealing a powerful chest underneath that actually looked like it was straight from a bodybuilding magazine. It was almost ridiculous how ripped Ogundimu was.

The blush on your cheeks deepened when he caught you staring, a small smirk played around his full lips. 

“Like what you see?” He murmured only for you, half lidded eyes looking down at you. 

“Maybe if it wasn’t you,” you answered in annoyance, then pressed your hand against his skin right in the same spot as before. 

Ogundimu laughed. “She’s feisty. I can see why you like her,” he said to Reaper again. 

His laughter faded quickly though when you sent out the strongest healing you were capable of, trying to get him to shut up for once. 

And he did. The only sound that he made was a grunt, his eyes closed seemingly of their own volition and his mouth went slack as he leaned his head back a fraction. 

You couldn’t help but feel proud in this moment. That your ability was that strong it rendered one of the most powerful men in the world speechless. 

Oh, but you hadn’t thought of how you had neglected your own body for a little too long now, these past few days had been nothing but malnourishment and lack of sleep. And you felt it in your bones now. Already your hand started slipping down the man’s chest, your head felt light and everything sounding more distant. Quickly, you stopped the healing output and drew your arm back to cradle it against your chest. 

You wanted to get up and off his lap too, but strong arms prevented you from getting further away. Instead, they pulled you closer and right into the man in front of you. 

“I need to lie down—” you wanted to say but plush lips on yours stopped you from finishing. Wide eyed you stared ahead, not able to focus on anything. When Ogundimu cradled your head in his hand you let out a weak whimper, eyes falling shut with fatigue. 

Between Ogundimu’s hands on you, you also felt that icy wind all around now, it made you shiver as it crept along your sides. Weakly, you opened your eyes and what you could finally focus on was a black swirling mist right behind Ogundimu, coalescing into the shape of Reaper. 

Red, burning embers shone brightly in the sockets of his mask, his fist rising. You were able to draw back right before he knocked Ogundimu over the head. The man slumped to the side and you hurriedly rushed off of his lap, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. 

“You done?” Reaper growled, cracking his neck. 

“I…” you didn’t know what to say. This would have consequences, right? A man like Ogundimu would definitely not like being knocked out like that. “I need to get out of here,” you mumbled and rushed to the exit.

Just as you opened the door Reaper stopped you, his claws digging into your upper arm. Wordlessly, he pulled you outside and dragged you through the hallways. 

You stumbled along, through doors and down stairs until you didn’t know where you were anymore, Reaper’s hold on you not budging. You were still feeling light headed from healing Ogundimu. 

“Wait,” you called out after a few minutes, breathing heavy, and tried to pull free. “Where are we going?”

Reaper whirled around, his claws dug into your arm painfully. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

He took a step towards you and lowered his voice. “What do you think will happen when Akande wakes up?” He crowded you against a nearby wall. Even though he was wearing his mask you were certain he was glaring at you. 

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to stick around and find out?”

You trembled when you looked into the dark holes of his mask, did you want to stay at this Talon base and face Ogundimu’s wrath, or go with the man who had hurt and abused you many times already? 

It was like choosing between drowning or burning to death, really. 

“What about Caleb?” You whispered frantically. “I can’t leave when he’s still here, they’ll kill him… or worse.”

Reaper’s hold on you loosened a little, then his hands fell away completely and he sighed. 

“Your little Overwatch comrade is not here.”

What was he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not here, we never had him.”

Something inside you broke at that admission. They never had him? That was not possible. 

”Liar!” You slid sideways along the wall, away from him. “You’re just saying that so I’ll come with you.”

With a snarl Reaper grabbed at his mask, pulled it off and simply threw it on the ground. You flinched when it clanked against the tile of the hallway loudly. 

Seeing him maskless again was like a slap to the face, and you felt your knees buckle when the memories hit you from that night.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying,” he growled, his irises burning embers, face contorted in frustration. 

You didn’t know what to believe anymore, if what he said was true that would mean that everything you had done had been… totally unnecessary.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Dr. O’Deorain.

You wouldn’t have had to work for Ogundimu.

And you wouldn’t have had to… submit to Reaper. 

Yes, he had used Caleb to get what he wanted as well. How were you supposed to know when he was lying or not?

“Do you honestly think I would ever trust you, especially now that I know you’ve been lying to me?”

Reaper frowned, eyes narrowing when he approached you again.

“I’ll show you then,” he said and wanted to grab your wrist, but stopped mid-air, instead he turned and went down the nearby staircase. 

He just left you standing there, as if he knew you’d follow eventually. 

And you did, because… what else were you supposed to do? He was right, as soon as Ogundimu woke up there would be hell to pay. And you’d be his number one target to get to Reaper. He had just seen that the masked mercenary wasn’t someone who shared his toys. 

With a deep breath you collected yourself and quickly followed him down the stairs. 

His long coat was swishing behind him whenever he rounded a corner, his shoulders drawn and tense. Finally, you both reached the very bottom of the staircase, the heavy security door leading outside opened noiselessly for you and after another long corridor, and passing multiple guards, you reached a very nondescript looking pair of double doors.

Reaper just went ahead as if he owned the place, which was probably at least partially true, whenever you studied the guards’ faces for any sign of trouble, they quickly averted their eyes; one of them even saluted. Reaper was a feared man. No wonder. Plus, they had definitely never seen his face before, even though it was partially hidden in the darkness of his hood. 

The last guard hurried to enter his access code into a brightly glowing terminal to grant you access to the holding cells. 

“Are you here often?” You asked Reaper when the heavy door behind you closed again. The way he had just waltzed in here spoke of some kind of routine. You wondered about the implications… Was he an interrogator or something equally sinister?

“No,” he answered shortly while he moved to the side, gesturing to the three cells in front of you. “He’s not in here.”

The small rooms all looked the same, each had a narrow bench, a sink, toilet and a cot crammed against the undecorated, bland walls. They looked just like the one from that security camera footage Ogundimu had shown you that first day you had been brought here. 

You took a cautious step forward, peering into the first cell with apprehension. Who would be in there and what state would they be in? 

But as you searched for a person you found... nothing. There was nobody in any of the cells. Startled, you whirled around.

“There is no one here,” you stated the obvious. 

“Right. Now, let’s go.”

“No. This can’t be all of the cells? Surely, Talon has more than three.”

Reaper sighed. “Obviously not,” he ground out, frustration evident in his voice. 

“But–where  _ is _ Caleb then?” This was impossible, you had seen the video. Had they been able to alter the footage? You had heard that these things were possible, but never thought you’d fall for them. 

Could it be he was… dead? 

“No clue. But he was never here”

You just stood there, gaping at Reaper, who had his arms crossed in front of him again. Anger gnawed at you, how could they fool you like that, weren’t you smarter than that? 

So, what now? 

Your hesitation was interrupted by Reaper now finally grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the exit. 

“We have to leave.” He sounded really urgent now, almost anxious. It was weird to see him like that, the usually so composed and unbothered man now reduced to this. Had you not been a part of it you would have laughed at his distress. But, well. You were a part of it, a crucial one at that, and you were in deep shit. Even more than usual. 

“Fine,” you yielded, tagging along once more. 

You left the holding cells under the curious eyes of the guards, when one of them made a weird face at seeing Reaper clutching your arm, you pulled it free of his grasp. 

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you said when you were out of earshot. 

“Somewhere safe.”

“Uh-huh. And that is where?”

Visibly shaking in frustration, Reaper turned around to you. “Can you just shut up for one sec—” A loud alarm was sounding through speakers in the ceiling, interrupting him. 

You two were staring at each other, the realization that you were now wanted raising goosebumps on your arms. Heart in your throat, you didn’t hesitate when Reaper grabbed your arm once more and you both hurried along the halls and staircases until you finally reached a door that seemed to be an emergency exit. 

When Reaper ripped it open, a guard stood on the other side, who had just been talking into his earpiece and upon realizing who you were, fumbled for his gun. 

The next things were happening in such quick succession, you were not sure how you even managed to keep track. 

Reaper pushed you to the side, brought his arms in front of himself as if to cross them and reached into the folds of his coat. The dark mist was rising off of him so densely, you couldn’t see his face for a second. When he pulled out his hands from the blackness he was holding his shotguns in them. The guard was still trying to get a grip on his own gun when Reaper shot him point blank in the chest.

You managed not to cry out in shock, even though he had been so close that it had felt like he’d shot you instead of the poor bastard who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with Reaper. 

“Always said Max hires the most incompetent idiots,” he muttered to himself, then looked over his shoulder at you. “Come on.”

Without looking at the man torn to pieces on the floor, you followed Reaper into an underground garage that seemed to be deserted. 

You passed many fancy looking hover cars until Reaper stopped before a bulky one that was definitely armored. He pushed you towards the car door. 

“Get in,” he urged and you quickly went for the handle. The door opened with a swish, but just as you wanted to climb in, Reaper held you back. “Sorry,  _ mariquita,” _ he rasped against your ear, “but for this part I need you to sleep a little.” 

You felt a prick on your neck and a cool substance entering your bloodstream, the last thing you could remember was how the world tilted when you fell forward onto the car seat and everything went black. 

* * *

You came to in a small room, it was semi dark and quiet. A pounding headache was making itself known when you blinked a few times. 

What had happened? The last thing you remembered was how Reaper had pushed you into the armored car. 

Oh shit, you were somewhere off base. He kidnapped you.

With a jolt you sat upright on the duvet of the bed. When you looked around you realized that you were in some kind of log cabin, wooden walls and furnishings gave it away. It was very rustic, outdated even. A stale smell of dust and earthly moisture was in the air, not very pleasant. 

You winced when the pain in your head pounded angrily at you for sitting up so quickly. 

Carefully, you shifted to the edge of the bed and put your feet on the ground, the room spun a little, but you managed to get it under control with a few deep breaths. 

Where the hell had Reaper brought you, and where was he anyway? All you knew was that he was going to pay for drugging you like that. 

Not far away was the door, it looked so inviting, you just had to check. Slowly, you got up and tip-toed over, your heart beating a little faster. Unconsciously holding your breath you tried the handle and–the door was locked. Even though you had expected it, it was still so disappointing. 

Next to the door was a window with the curtains drawn, a sliver of light fell through the gaps. When you pulled them aside you saw trees and bushes, the setting sun filtering through the leaves, nothing else. Shit, so you really were in the woods?! 

You couldn’t even open the window to climb outside, there were iron bars out in front, probably to prevent looters or bears from entering. Who knew, you hadn’t ever been in one of those log cabins before. 

With a sigh you opened the widow to let in some fresh air, it smelled really nice at least and you stood there a little longer, trying to see something beyond the many pines. It was so quiet here, the only sounds you could discern were that of a woodpecker and the wind in the trees. 

What would happen once Reaper came back? What if he didn’t come at all... and you were left here… 

A violent shiver ran through you. Somehow both options sounded terrible. 

You moved away from the window and into the small kitchenette across the room that consisted of a fridge, a sink and a small camping burner on a narrow counter. The fridge contained nothing but air, it wasn’t even running. The cabinets above revealed the same, layers of dust and mouse droppings. You slammed them shut in disgust. 

Besides the small kitchen and the bed you’d woken up in, there was only a rackety looking table with a single chair crammed into the corner and a small fireplace. 

The entire place had seen better days, the floor was covered in dust and dirt and cobwebs hung from the low ceiling.

There was a small broom leaning against the wall of the fireplace, among other utensils for tending to the fire. 

There was nothing else you could do, so you picked up the broom with the bent bristles and started sweeping the wooden floor. Ash and dust swirled up, the few sunbeams peeking through the small single window made it look like they were dancing. Occasionally you had to sneeze, but you kept going and gathered the dirt in a pile. 

Just as you checked around the room to see if you missed a spot, you heard the crunching of leaves and gravel caused by heavy footsteps through the open window. Reaper had returned after all. 

Carefully, you put the broom back. The lock clicked and then Reaper swung the door inwards. The resulting wind blew your small dirt pile over your feet. 

He was wearing something else now, not his usual leather cloak or armor, it was a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head and dark blue combat pants. The sight startled you, you’d never seen him look so... casual before. He almost looked normal if it hadn’t been for the red glowing eyes and ashen skin. 

With crossed arms you faced him. “What is this place?” You didn’t beat around the bush, even though you were terrified of what the future held for you. 

Reaper still stood in the doorway, carrying something in his arms. With a casual kick he closed the door behind him, then moved to the kitchen. You noted how he didn’t lock the door again. His heavy boots thudded dully on the floorboards. He dropped a brown paper bag onto the counter and started removing items from it, mostly cans and bottles. 

“This used to be my getaway when I was still–” he broke off, faltered when he put down another can, “–before I joined Talon.” He picked up a water bottle and held it out to you.

You eyed him in suspicion, but you  _ were _ thirsty, now that you thought about it you were parched. Quickly, you went to him and grabbed the proffered bottle, took a few steps back and downed half of it in one go. 

“What did you give me anyway?” You felt a little nauseous as you idly rubbed the spot of the injection at your neck. 

“It was just a small dosage of tranquilizer, its side-effects should wear off soon,” he said offhandedly, putting the cans into the cabinets while he spoke. 

You waited until he was finished and turned around to you again. 

“Let me go.” 

Silence stretched between you, he was leaning against the kitchen counter while you had taken on quite an aggressive stance. He didn’t react much besides tilting his head back a fraction to look down his nose at you, his mouth in a permanent frown. 

“Alright.”

You stood stock-still, not daring to breathe. Had you heard right?

“W–What?”

“You can go,” he elaborated, crossing his arms in front of himself. 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“I’m not. You can go if you can find your way out of the forest.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you. Take me away from here and somewhere safe.” You’ve had enough. This would be your last stand. 

“We are safe right here.”

“You know what I mean. I want to go  _ home. _ ” Your voice broke on the last word, emotion was causing your vocal chords to waver. Damn him for giving you hope like that. 

“Home?” He sounded skeptical. His clothes rustled when he moved away from the counter and towards you. His footsteps pounded in the rhythm of the pain in your head. You didn’t look up as he approached you, you just waited for his feet to appear in front of you. 

“If that is what you want.”

You did look up at him now.

“Since when does it matter what I want?” You couldn’t help but feel bitter. 

His red eyes searched yours, the expression on his face may have been his usual frown, but there was something else underneath it; a sadness you were only now able to detect. Was he trying to make you feel bad, guilty? Well, it was  _ not _ working. 

“What are you implying?” His voice had become a little quieter. 

You scoffed at him, incredulous. 

“Ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you I have been subjected to the worst shit I’ve ever had to endure. And not just from you, no...but you really took the cake.”

You watched his eyes narrow the longer you went on. 

“And all this time I tried to just make it through, with the little bit of hope left that maybe,  _ maybe _ Overwatch will help. Maybe they come and find me, Lena, Winston, anyone. To make this nightmare end.” You had to stop a second to take a breath, Reaper was still quietly standing in front of you, arms crossed once more. “But obviously you people at Talon are great at hiding in plain sight, I bet you even made it look like nobody survived that explosion, just like you swindled me into thinking that Caleb was still alive and in your custody.”

“Overwatch is not coming.”

“I  _ know _ that, okay?!” You screamed at him now, tears of rage had gathered in your eyes.

“Remember what I told you about them. They don’t care for you, they are still the same people from before. The same big children playing war with the help of their private soldiers.”

“That’s not true!” You couldn’t stand to hear this again, you knew that Overwatch was so much more than that, had seen first hand all the good you’d done all over the globe. “You’re just still salty about what happened to you.”

“Careful,” he warned you, voice gravelly. 

But you’d had it, there was no going back now. The two of you were having this conversation and you would tell him everything that’s been on your mind and had been too afraid to say. 

“No, I’m done. I’m... so tired of it all. Of constantly being afraid, of always having to tip-toe around your big egos.” You waved your hands in the air to emphasize your point. “Men like you can’t take any form of criticism without throwing a fit.”

Reaper took a step towards you and you moved one back. 

“Men like me?”

“Yes, you’re all the same. Ogundimu and you, none of you can take no for an answer.”

His eyes had started burning brighter than before, a shadow had fallen over his face. “Don’t compare me to Akande,” he growled, stepping even further into your personal space and you yielded. 

“I’ll compare you to whatever the hell I want,” you didn’t budge on your stance even though he was crowding you against a wall. 

Were you scared? Yes, shitless. But were you going to shut up? Not in the foreseeable future it seemed. 

What did you have to lose now? There was no Caleb dangling above your head, Reaper had nothing. And your own well being you stopped caring for after having your free will stripped away. But you were taking it back now, whatever the cost. 

Reaper was standing mere centimeters away, your chests were almost touching as he was looking down at you, his black mist slowly rising from the depths of his hood. 

His hand came up and towards your face, you flinched because you thought he was finally going to hit you for your insolence. But he didn’t even touch you, he drew the hand back as if he’d burned himself. 

“Are you done insulting me yet?”

You blinked at him. 

“Did you get it all off your chest?”

Taking a breath you wanted to keep going, but he interrupted you. 

“You should eat something,” he finally finished, then pulled away to give you space again. 

“I don’t want to eat, I want to leave.”

“You will eat first. Want to collapse in the middle of the forest?”

Grumbling under your breath you pushed off the wall and towards the kitchen. Since when was he that considerate, was he actually going to help you get away?

You leaned against the counter while he opened a can of ravioli and put it on the burner. 

Neither of you spoke as he was stirring the can with a spoon, even though there was still so much more you wanted to say.

After a few minutes he turned the burner off and wordlessly set the can with the steaming ravioli on the counter next to you, spoon still inside. 

“Don’t...you want any?” You asked hesitantly, not sure how you felt about being served food by Reaper of all people. 

“I don’t eat,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“You don’t– _ what?  _ How do you even live?”

He tilted his head to the side, raising one brow. “I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous statement and decided against opening that can of worms. 

“... doesn’t live…” you shoveled the mushy ravioli into your mouth and mumbled to yourself between spoonfuls. At this point you were convinced that he was saying things to mess with your head.

The food was awful, but at the same time heavenly on your empty stomach. There was only a little food left in the can when you addressed him again. 

“So when I’m finished, you’ll take me out of here?” You would not forget what he said earlier. 

“Under one condition,” he said gravely, the doughy pasta almost got stuck in your throat when you tried to swallow it. 

“...which is?” Oh, how you hated the suspense. Already the ravioli sat like a rock in your stomach. 

He made sure you were paying attention before continuing. 

“You spend one last night with me.”

The spoon clattered loudly on the table, scattering tomato sauce everywhere. 

“No,” you answered automatically, moving away from the counter and creating more space between you two. 

There was no way you were going to do this again, especially under the pretense of consent. 

Reaper didn’t seem surprised by your outburst, he must have assumed you’d react in such a fashion. His eyes were flat when he slowly began moving. 

“Why not, have I not been good to you?” He was talking so calmly, reassuringly, while moving towards you. 

Was he fucking serious?

You tried to keep the distance intact, but there was the wall behind you again, damn but this hut was too small. 

“Good to me?” You wanted to sound outraged, but it came out more like a squeak. 

He carried on. “Did I leave you wanting?” You didn’t like how his voice dropped into that purr, the way he carried himself when he approached you. 

“Don’t you dare say that.” He had  _ hurt _ you. He acted like what had happened had been some sort of romantic encounter?!

Your pulse sped up when you felt the immovable wood against your back while Reaper was still advancing. Cornered once more, the story of your life. 

“S–Stop!” 

But he kept coming until he could reach out to gently brush a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

“You’re hurting my feelings,  _ mariquita. _ Did you not enjoy yourself?” He murmured while his fingers brushed along your jaw and down your neck. You hated how his touch was not just revolting to you anymore, but it stirred something else deep inside. Somehow your brain was the only one remembering how traumatizing your last night together had been, your body seemed to only focus on how he had managed to make you come undone. 

The sheer indignation you felt at his words that caused too many insults and accusations to want to come out all at once rendered you speechless. 

When you didn’t answer he leaned further in, his breath tickled your ear when he spoke next. “Have I not been a generous lover?” 

Oh god, you could feel the heat spread from your belly further outward, into your chest and also lower. A blush was forming on your cheeks while listening to his sensual deep voice telling you these intimate things. 

“Shut up,” you whispered, trying in vain to get your reaction under control. His hands fell to your sides, holding your hips in place while he pressed a knee between your legs, pushing it against you as he had done before. 

The sensation made you gasp.

“You  _ know _ I can please you,  _ hermosa, _ ” he said heatedly against your neck. 

Ugh. Yeah he was right, he was so well endowed and knew how to use what he’d been given, it had been nothing short of amazing, but at the same time you still hated this man’s guts for forcing it upon you. And for trying to do it  _ again _ . 

But what were you supposed to do? If you didn’t accept, well, would he still do it? Probably. It was as you’d said; he couldn’t take no for an answer. So there was only one thing you could do. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, drew back until you could see his face again.

“Promise... promise you’ll let me go.” You didn’t even recognize your own voice in that moment, it sounded so small and broken. 

“I promise,” he hissed breathlessly against your face. 

Your eyes searched his endlessly red ones, for what you didn’t even know... the truth, for lies? Whatever it was, you didn’t find it. But there was nothing you could do besides accepting. As foolish as it sounded, you had to try everything to get back home.

After what felt like an eternity of simply staring at him you finally surrendered, closed your eyes and nodded. 

With your breath held you anticipated his next move now that you had given him permission, but nothing happened. Tentatively, you cracked an eye open and tried to see what he was waiting for. 

When he saw that you were looking at him, he took a small step backwards, lifted his arms and pulled off his hoodie. Underneath he wore a simple grey t-shirt that accentuated his physique just right. Quickly, you averted your eyes again, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. The blush on your cheeks came back full force when he went for his shirt as well.

You didn’t know what to do, yes you had agreed to it but actually doing it was something completely different. 

But as you were contemplating, Reaper moved forward again, his fingers tilting your head up by the chin so you had to look him in the face. 

“Kiss me,” he murmured in his deep, smoky voice while focusing on your mouth. As if on its own, your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a nervous habit. His pupils dilated as he watched you, and your pulse spiked in reaction. 

Uncertain, you moved your head forward a fraction, trying to close the distance between you. As you got closer, your eyes started to flutter shut, after that you followed the smell of him and the warmth he was exuding. 

His hand had fallen away from your chin about half-way, but now that you pressed your lips to his, it came back up to cradle your cheek instead. His other hand brushed along your arm, down to your wrist and pulled it up to his chest to lay your palm against his pectoral. 

As soon as he did that, you knew what he wanted. And you gave it to him.

You sent out healing strong enough to mend a big flesh wound, and just as you had anticipated he gasped against your mouth. He had not expected you to go all in at once. Maybe if you overpowered him with your healing he would forget about everything else... 

_ Or _ this could go horribly wrong and the exact opposite might happen. 

Before you could muse on it any more, Reaper licked over your lips, pushing them open gently, sensually. He was really good at this, at making you forget that you should be afraid–although he was even better at reminding you that you  _ should _ be. You shuddered at the memory of him above you in the semi dark of your room and how his demonic eyes had burned brightly when he had pushed into you. 

You closed your eyes so you could pretend this was somebody else, someone who cared about you, genuinely loved you. And not because they liked to use your abilities whenever they felt like it. 

His wicked tongue didn’t even feel that foreign anymore as it explored your mouth in its unhurriedness. It even managed to coax your own to move against him until you were actually kissing him back in much the same way. 

The kiss you were sharing was so intense it made your head spin and weak in the knees, but fortunately Reaper was already stepping right into you before you collapsed, his hands on your waist and thigh, and wrapped one of your legs around his hips. He pushed you up and finally your other leg around him, holding you against the wall and above the ground with his body. All the while he was kissing you senseless so you hadn’t even really noticed what he had done until you felt him pressed against you so closely.

A small whimper escaped you when he squeezed your thighs, then he drew back from the kiss, eyes half-lidded and heavy. 

Reaper studied you for just a second, then snaked his arm around your back and moved away from the wall with you wrapped around him. Hastily, you broke off the healing stream and brought your arms behind his neck in order to not fall backwards.

It felt like you were betraying yourself, as if all the resistance you’d put up in the past had been a game that you two had played. That you had secretly wanted this all along and had simply played hard to get. 

You forcefully reminded yourself that this would be the last time, the very last time this happened, whether he was telling the truth or not. 

The trip over to the bed was a very brief one, already he was lowering you onto the soft surface, his knees between your legs and propped up on his arms above you.

His fingers were touching your cheek, following the contour of your bottom lip, then immediately he leaned back in to kiss you again, while his hands explored your body. This time it was him who divested you of your shirt and bra, his big hands on your bare skin were leaving you shivering. 

Soon he had pulled off his pants, you got a glimpse of his erection from the corner of your eyes when he had surged back in to slot your mouths together once more. He pushed it against your thigh, letting you get a feel.

“This is what you do to me,” he groaned, fingers playing with the waistband of your pants. 

Suddenly he paused.

Wary of his unexpected hesitation, you searched his eyes. They were so dark and their pupils dilated when he whispered to you, “May I?”

Your throat closed at his question. Really, was he going to pretend that this was anything more than you agreeing to something in order to get home? He really wanted you to fake your consent even more, humiliate you. Like you hadn’t already agreed to this.

“A little late to act like a gentleman now, isn’t it?” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your voice. 

Reaper simply chuckled at that, took it as affirmation apparently, and pulled the fabric down and off of your legs. 

Your heart beat frantically when he parted your legs for him to get in between, propped up on his elbows and dangerously close to your core. He held your gaze with his as he brushed along the inside of one of your thighs, raising goosebumps in the wake of his fingers. When he touched your folds you closed your eyes and released the breath you’d been holding. 

“Look at me,  _ marquita,” _ he commanded in his low voice. You forced yourself to open your eyes again and watched as he was slowly lowering his head to kiss you between your legs. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of his warm breath and lips against you. Already he started to use his tongue, its wet and slippery surface felt foreign against your nether lips. 

Reaper hummed in delight when he licked over your clit experimentally and you couldn’t keep the small moan from escaping. He was still making eye contact with you when he ventured further downward and traced around your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

It was hard to keep your eyes on him like this when all you wanted to do was to hide. The blush on your cheeks was burning hotter than ever, one of your arms flew up to cover your mouth with the back of your hand when he licked inside of you. He moaned obscenely at tasting you like this and even his own eyes were fluttering shut.

He swirled his tongue back upwards and around to stimulate every part he could possibly reach, it felt so incredibly good, you sighed and moaned with every flick of his tongue. 

His ministrations were so careful, so gentle, you were starting to relax. As your muscles unclenched and stopped quivering, your legs fell open the rest of the way. Reaper took this as an invitation to finally start tenderly sucking your clit, elevating your pleasure to the next level. 

“Oh god–,” you gasped when he’d done it, but quickly bit down on your hand instead to stifle your outburst. 

“Hmm, let me hear you,” he purred in between suckling and nipping at your sensitive nub. 

You still tried to keep it down, which proved to be increasingly difficult with the way he was working you now. His mouth was moving faster, a little harder against you, sharp teeth dangerously grazing against your skin while his hands had started to stroke your thighs, up and down.

He was playing you like an instrument, every single touch served the greater purpose of bearing you to him further, opening you up completely. You quickly got lost in the sensations, everything he did felt incredibly good. So good, you didn’t want it to stop. 

Now  _ that _ was a scary thought. 

His mouth briefly left you before he surged back in and you felt another touch, slowly stroking around your entrance. Reaper pushed a single finger inside you and it just slipped in without any resistance, you were so wet from his expert oral stimulation.

Oh shit, this was really doing it for you. This was exactly as you liked it, how could he know this, you had only spent one night together. 

His finger pumped in and out of you slowly, in just the right angle that had you mewling into the back of your hand.

“I wanna hear you,” Reaper reminded you after stopping for just the small second it took to utter these words, and then kept at it again, but you were too occupied with trying to comprehend what was happening to you.

Just a little longer and you would come. 

Just a little–

With one last long lick he pulled away completely, the cry of disappointment you made got stuck in your throat as you tried to suppress it unsuccessfully. 

It frightened you how close you’d come to begging in that instance…

Reaper’s look of mild amusement he’d had before had disappeared, and it filled you with dread once more. 

“I said,” he rasped as he took a hold of your arms, pulling you up to his level so you sat in his lap, “I want to hear you.” 

His dick was brushing against your inner thigh, almost touching your sex. You couldn’t help yourself, nervously you glanced down and were reminded again of just how  _ big _ he was, how much it had hurt the first time he’d entered you. 

You swallowed drily. 

“I–I’m...,”  _ sorry _ you wanted to whisper, not sure why you were trying to apologize, but feeling that it was what he wanted at that moment. But you steered clear of it, you had nothing to be sorry for. “...okay.” You chose to say instead.

He studied you for a little while, his hard grip on your arms loosening, and idly stroking them instead. That spark of mischief entered his eyes once more, a small smirk played around his lips. 

Slowly he dipped his head to brush his mouth over yours, his beard was tickling you. 

“Did you like that?” He breathed against you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping it playfully. 

Why was he talking so damn much? 

There was no point in lying, but even as you nodded you wondered how your previous reactions could have been interpreted as anything but enjoyment. Again, he wanted you to confirm things you’d rather not. What an ass.

“You want to know what  _ I _ like?” He gave you a brief kiss before leaning back and pulling you atop of himself. You held yourself up with your hands on both sides of his head. His erection was now firmly pressed against your ass. He was still smirking when he continued. “A pretty girl riding my dick.”

Your inner walls clenched at his crude words, combined with the feeling of his hard member poking your bottom, it made your entire body blush. 

He really wanted you to take an active role in this, huh? 

His hands were going over your back and further down to grab your ass to guide it against his cock, rubbing it between your soaked folds. Your arms buckled where you were still trying to hold yourself above him, your breath coming in short gasps. 

He groaned at the feeling of his cock slicking up with your juices. 

You were starting to hyperventilate.

“W–wait, I’m…” You couldn’t take him yet! You were not prepared, you didn’t want it to hurt like last time. “I need…  _ please… _ ” 

You were… crying, why were you crying? He wasn’t even doing anything yet. 

It was just like the first time he did this to you, even though you weren’t held down or at gunpoint, he managed to hold you captive, to force you to do anything he desired. 

“Shh,” he was comforting you, calloused thumb wiping away your tears. “Calm down,  _ mariquita. _ ”

You sobbed.

And then there were lips on yours, kissing away the tears that had run into your mouth, stealing away their saltiness and replacing it with Reaper’s own taste, a far more pleasant one if you were being honest. 

The kiss turned from soothing to passionate in just a few seconds. His hands were roaming over your back in gentle circles, pressing your bodies together and into the most intimate embrace you’d shared yet. 

You just wanted to forget about where you were and especially who you were with in that moment, you closed your burning eyes and kissed him until you were short of breath.

With eyes almost as red as his, you were looking at him, his fingers still stroking you softly. 

There was no time to dwell on the feelings this embrace had just evoked, how Reaper had been able to comfort you with a single kiss. You knew you’d go crazy if you thought about it any longer. It was time to get this over and done with. Fuck it, this might as well hurt.

You sniffed once, pushed yourself up on shaking arms and wiped away the remaining moisture from your lashes. With determination you got up on your knees and shimmied back a little to line yourself up with his straining erection. One of your hands took a hold of it to guide it into yourself. 

Oh, you really should have prepared…  _ fuck, _ he was stretching you impossibly wide. You had to stop for a moment to catch your breath. With both hands on Reaper’s chest, you closed your eyes in concentration, willing your body to relax. But it was just so much to take in. You lifted up a fraction and sank down another centimeter, trying to keep your breathing under control. 

Gritting your teeth against the pain and stretch you pushed yourself and took him the rest of the way.

Trembling like a leaf, hands balled into fists against his skin, you tried to accommodate to his girth. Your head hung low, hair falling around your face like a curtain. 

You could feel your heartbeat both in your chest and where he was nestled between your legs. 

Reaper’s hand gently cradled your face in his palm, tilting your head up to look at him. Once more his thumb brushed over your parted lips, dipping inside to press onto your tongue and you could only stare at the sea of his red eyes burning with the intensity of hellfire. Drool was running down your chin and Reaper’s fingers, but you didn’t really notice it, too occupied with the feeling of being filled so completely. 

Reaper’s lips were parted as well when he watched his finger disappear into the cavern of your mouth. His other hand had landed on your butt, squeezing it once before pushing you down onto him while elevating his hips at the same time. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull when he moved inside you, a sob racked your body and then, as if on autopilot your lips closed around the digit in your mouth, sucking on it softly. 

Reaper groaned loudly. “That’s it,  _ hermosa. _ ” His jaw clenched when you moved tentatively, just rotated your hips to get more comfortable. “Hnng,  _ yes. _ ”

It was fascinating–in a morbid kind of way–to watch his reactions; how he sighed when you lifted up and sunk back down, the way he closed his eyes in bliss when you ground against him with short thrusts or how his grip on you faltered when you scratched over his chest with your nails as you started to feel the effects of having him inside of you. 

Slowly, the friction of his dick against your inner walls was starting to feel  _ good. _ Relief was making you bold, you threw your head back and released a moan when you managed to find the right angle. 

Immediately, his hands travelled to your breasts, kneading them and playing with your nipples. It only heightened your pleasure, spurring you on and increasing the speed with which you were moving. 

All the emotions you’d felt in the last couple of days were warring within you. Hurt, despair, pleasure, hope... all of them were mixed together into a potent cocktail burning in your chest and threatening to spill out at any moment. 

You felt your orgasm approach with a vengeance, it promised to pull you under with its intensity. 

And intense it was. You screamed when you came, clutching at Reaper wherever you could, holding on for dear life. 

Still breathing heavily, you opened your eyes and found you were lying on his chest, his normally slow heartbeat much quicker against your ear. You wanted to push away, but couldn’t move more than your eyes. 

Reaper kissed the top of your head, then the world was spinning as your cheek was now pressed against a pillow and you lay face down on the bed. 

He positioned you so you were on your knees, ass in the air and head low. A short moment of panic made you whimper in distress, but Reaper put his big hand onto the small of your back, effectively keeping you in place. 

He was pushing into you from behind, and even though you had become somewhat accustomed to his girth, you still gasped when he had bottomed out. 

One of his hands was gripping your hip, the other was sliding into your hair and pushing your head into the pillow, then he draped himself over you to speak into your ear. 

“I’ll make sure Akande will never touch you again.” He was referring to the incident in the briefing room. The memory of being held in this exact position by Ogundimu made you shiver. “You have no idea–” he started pounding into you, hard and fast, and you whined with the force of it against your sensitive nerves. “–how much I wanted to kill him when he did.”

_ You and me both _ , you wanted to say but couldn’t answer because he was fucking you in earnest now, took away your ability to form coherent sentences. 

With gritted teeth you fisted the sheets, bracing against his thrusts. Between your nerves shooting rapid fire signals to your brain and your conscious slightly worrying about Reaper’s promise contradicting what he just said, you felt a second orgasm coming. It sent you over the edge once more and into blissful oblivion for a few seconds, a dry sob the only sound you made. 

Reaper had hauled you even closer as he was brutally pistoning in and out of you until, finally, he stilled, buried deep inside of you, spilling his release.

For a few seconds nothing happened. 

Then, Reaper pulled out of you and you collapsed onto the bed. 

Was it… over? 

You didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the darkness that had slowly crept over the room you guessed it was nighttime. 

You felt him against your side, the warmth radiating off of him was stifling. With one arm he turned you around and towards him. You stared with drooping eyes at his scarred chest instead of his face. 

He pressed you against him, tucking your head underneath his chin, and somehow it was this act of intimacy that was crossing a line for you. With your arms in front you pushed away from his chest. 

“Alright…” you had to clear your throat. “I did what you wanted.” A small sniff gave away your uncertainty, the fear that now you’d done his bidding it was time for him to tell you it had all been a bluff. 

“Night’s not over,  _ mariquita.” _

You glared at him. He really had the nerve to smirk. 

“You’re still gonna–” you had to stop when his fingertips brushed over your ribs and over a nipple, tickling you and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “–gonna get me out of here.”

When he didn’t respond, you grabbed his wrist to stop his wandering hand, forcing him to acknowledge you. 

His eyes flashed when you’d touched him, the smirk on his face morphing into a sly grin that showed off his sharp teeth. 

“What if I don’t?”

_ What? _

“Oh, no! No, you  _ will!” _ You exclaimed. “You promised!”

“Show me how much you want it, then,” he purred, “I’m all yours,  _ hermosa.” _

You sunk back a fraction, taken aback by his words. What did he want you to do? You’d already taken an active role in this, and now he was asking for even more. He was insatiable. 

“But I…” 

“What do you want to do to me?” He murmured and leaned back, one hand going behind his head, confident that you’d play along. 

Oh, there were several things you wanted to do to him, but none of them were going in the direction he was hoping. 

“I want…” you trailed off, eyes squinting at where you were still holding his wrist somehow. As you were thinking of all the things that had happened to you, all the abuse you’d suffered, there really was only one thing coming to mind. 

“I want to hurt you.” 

There, you said it. What was he going to say to that? With a challenge in your eyes you sized him up.

You could see his pupils dilate, then he pulled his arm towards himself and you with it until you sat straddled on his abdomen, because you were not letting go. Why weren’t you letting go?

“Then hurt me,” he whispered heatedly, offering his throat in surrender. 

Shit, this was… not what you’d anticipated to happen. What could you even do to hurt him? He was a wraith, whatever the fuck that meant. 

“I’m a healer,” you said more to yourself than him, trying to come up with anything to get out of this situation that was growing uncomfortable very fast. 

“Yes, and look what I did to you,” he goaded, letting the arm that was still in your grip fall limp. “I tricked you,” he went on, that fire in his eyes burning just a little brighter. “I lied and deceived you. Took advantage of you.” 

So he really wanted you to lash out? Somehow you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his obvious taunt, but your grip on his wrist was tightening in fury. He was right, he had done all those things. And they were all things you hated him for, really wanted to retaliate.

“You took everything from me,” you whispered, your throat closing up in anger and sadness. Something in his expression changed at that, but you couldn’t discern what it was. 

“I have,” he answered quietly, “Because you’re mine.”

You backhanded him, and watched his head snap to the side with it, the small smile temporarily knocked off his face. 

“I’m not fucking yours,” you spat at him. 

“Yeah you are,  _ mariquita.” _

“Stop calling me that!”

“Never.”

You punched him in the jaw, the impact rattled your bones painfully, but the satisfaction at seeing the surprise in his eyes had been worth it. 

Blood was spreading on his lips where they split, and he grinned at you, the red liquid had already coated those pearly whites as well. 

“Was that all?” he asked, licking at the blood on his mouth. 

You saw red, and with a cry you wrapped both your hands around his throat. The muscles and tendons were moving under your palms, you squeezed as hard as you could. 

His smirk was not diminishing, but his eyes were closing, the endless sea of red pulsing with his heartbeat that you felt where you had your hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

Your grip was not loosening, his smirk had disappeared as his mouth was open and drawing shallow breaths while you watched his features, now pressing down on his windpipe with your whole upper body. 

He groaned, closed his eyes and breathed “Go on, kill me. Put me out of my misery.”

Was this what you were doing?  _ He cannot be killed, _ you remembered, but wished that it weren’t true. If only you could, physically and mentally… you weren’t sure. You’d actually never killed anyone before, and had hoped you’d never have to. But could you make an exception to that now? It’s what he deserved, after all. For taking away the family and friends you’d found in Overwatch, your freedom, your  _ dignity.  _

“Then die,” you sobbed, tears were running down your face and dropping onto your fingers that were white-knuckled. It was what he deserved. 

What he…

...deserved.

You leaned back, relieving the pressure on his neck.

_ Looks like I can’t do it,  _ you though and hung your head. 

That was when you felt his hands on your thighs, idly stroking along the outside, his grip becoming stronger by the second now that you weren’t strangling him anymore. Your own hands were just resting against his skin now, your whole body trembled. 

Reaper brushed his hands up your sides, over your arms and into your hair, pulled you down and kissed you hungrily, the metallic taste of his blood shocking to your senses. 

He easily reversed your positions and sunk inside you while still devouring your mouth with his own. 

The night was far from over, he fucked you so many times you lost count, but he made sure you came every single time. You passed out sometime in the morning hours before the sun came up with his head between your thighs once more, your exhaustion finally catching up. 

* * *

The sun was shining when you two stopped at the edge of the forest. It was a beautiful day and you felt giddy at the prospect of being free. 

The entire way from the cottage through the forest Reaper hadn’t spoken to you, hadn’t uttered a single word and you’d been grateful for that because you weren’t sure you’d have been able to answer. The only thing on your mind had been freedom.

Walking had proven to be quite difficult after last night’s activities and you got the distinct feeling that it had been his intention of making sure you’d feel him for a week at least. 

But as you stood there now, the trees behind you and a road in front, something held you back. Maybe it was still the thought of being trapped, of them having Caleb that kept you in place, glued to Reaper’s side. It was just too good to be true.

A question was burning in the back of your mind, ever since last night. 

“Why are you letting me go?”

Reaper was wearing his black hoodie again, hood drawn over his head and veiling a part of his face. 

“Shit,” he sighed after a moment. “I don’t know.” He kicked at a pine cone. “It’s just that… everything I touch… I kill,” he said after turning to you again. “And I don’t want you… to die.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it stirred some  _ weird _ feelings you did not want to acknowledge at this point. So instead, you looked at your own feet, stuffed your hands into your pant’s pockets and just nodded jerkily. 

Silence stretched between you and you wondered if you were supposed to say something…  _ thank you?  _ No way. 

“So, um…” you swallowed drily, “I guess I’ll be going then?” Your heart beat like a rabbit’s, afraid he might change his mind. 

“If you follow the road for about two miles you’ll find a small village with a shop and a phone,” he said in a gravelly tone, gazing into the direction he had just mentioned. He looked so… defeated.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly, practically vibrating with the urge to get going. 

When he didn’t elaborate, you took a step and set foot on the road, walking slowly at first.

“Remember what I said about Overwatch,” he called after you, but you were already walking faster, faster until you broke into a run. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of seeing him following you. 

You ran as fast as you could, tears streaming from your eyes, carried away by the wind blowing around your nose. You were free,  _ free.  _ Adrenaline was urging you along, any fatigue you might have felt blown away.

When you reached the city limits you almost collapsed, sobbing in relief.

It was finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking around this long as it took me forever to finish this lol! It was so much fun writing and getting all this amazing feedback from you. Really, it means the world to me!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Medikink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23838130) by [Jeyawue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeyawue/pseuds/Jeyawue)




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